


The Claiming of Beauty

by AislingSiobhan



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying During Sex, First Time, Flashbacks, Forced Marriage, M/M, Missing Scene, Mpreg, Odin is doing it all wrong, Post-Avengers (2012), Rape Culture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Soulmates, Virgin Asgardians, but he means well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AislingSiobhan/pseuds/AislingSiobhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Tony/Loki] Sold into marriage as punishment for his crimes against Jötunheimr, Loki escapes with a little help from an enchantress who is in love with his husband. Pregnant, and desperate, Loki runs to Tony Stark to claim the drink (and everything else) the mortal once offered him. Unfortunately, Tony’s home is now Thor’s home, but Loki figures if he can convince enough people the child is Tony’s, Thor might even believe it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Claiming of Loki

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Runic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/gifts).



I have some rather big, flashing neon, fucking issues. Please excuse the crazy and enjoy the fiction. 

Look, look, Runic, it only took me a year to get half way with it. Yay? 

* * * 

**“The Claiming of Beauty”**

**Disclaimer:** The Avengers, Tony, Loki, etc belong to Marvel, Stan Lee, et co. I make no money from this and own nothing, don’t sue.   
**Summary:** [Tony/Loki] Sold into marriage as punishment for his crimes against Jötunheimr, Loki escapes with a little help from an enchantress who is in love with his husband. Pregnant, and desperate, Loki runs to Tony Stark to claim the drink (and everything else) the mortal once offered him. Unfortunately, Tony’s home is now Thor’s home, but Loki figures if he can convince enough people the child is Tony’s, Thor might even believe it too.   
**Warnings:** Slash. Loki/Tony. Post-Avengers. Brief flashbacks. Language. Angst. AU. Creepiness. FrostIron. Thor/Loki (dubious consent/non-con). Missing Scene. Virgin Asgardians. First time. Odin is doing it all wrong. Mpreg. Rape Culture. Triggers: rape; crying during sex; forced marriage; slavery; punishment. Anything else you can think of, just to be safe?  
 **Rating:** NC-17. Is there a higher rating by any chance?   
**A/N:** Ok, we all know I have issues, and Loki feels, so there is nothing else to say.   
**Title** : Or, “ ** _The Story of L_** ”. Read Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy, it gave me a little bit of inspiration for this fiction. The rest of the inspiration comes from my fucked up thoughts. 

_XXX_

**Words:** 15,625  
 **Chapter 1**  
Loki glowered at the crowd that had gathered in Odin’s throne room. He had been silent, gagged by the metal creation of Tony’s, and passive as Thor led him from Heimdallr’s observatory towards the palace, but the more people that had appeared, whispering and pointing at him, revelling in his shame, the stiffer Loki’s posture became. Now, it was all Thor could do to hold his brother still without hurting him, for Loki kept jerking in his grip, jumping at one or another of his watchers, snarling beneath the muzzle. His eyes were narrowed, spitting fire at those who watched him, smirking at his misfortune. Whispers of ‘he had it coming’, spread quickly around the room, and Loki’s fists clenched and unclenched with every repetition or remark that were similar. Words spread like wildfire, diffusing as fast as the wind could carry it through the room, and through Asgard, and Loki’s humiliation and anger burned brightly in its wake. 

All fell silent though, and still, as the All Father rose from his throne. 

“Loki Odinson,” he spoke, his voice loud and strong. 

At the base of his throne, Thor bent to one knee, and dragged his brother down with him. Loki glowered at Odin’s feet, unable to bring himself to meet the one remaining eye of who had long ago been his father. There would be anger there, hate and disappointment; regret, perhaps for having saved Loki’s life in the first place; there might even be pleasure, for the chance at last to tie up loose ends. Loki had no more purpose, no use could he be for Asgard, for Laufey was dead and he would never take the Jötun throne. He would not have the Asgardian throne either, and Tony Stark had successfully side tracked him from his attempt at taking Midgard for his own. So what was left for him but death? 

“You are accused,” Odin spoke again, his voice ringing clearly through the silent hall. Loki glanced up then, but not at Odin. He watched the woman who stood by the King’s side, the woman he had once called mother; she watched him now, pale faced with tears on her cheeks and her hands were bunched in the skirts of her dress, wrinkling the fabric and turning her knuckles white. Her hair, usually arranged so carefully, was tied up in the most careless bun Loki had ever seen, and he cringed as he met her eyes, for she stared at him so desperately, so hopefully. She had come to him in a hurry, Loki realised, rushed here to save him from his death perhaps? 

Loki turned his head to face Odin’s knees this time as the King began to speak again. “You are accused of the attempted genocide of the Jotnar, the siege and attempted subjugation of Midgard, and of prohibiting the return of the rightful future King of Asgard.” There was no mention by Odin of Loki’s having taken the throne for himself, nor of Frigga giving it to him, but those murmurs began again in the crowd the second Odin fell silent. Loki tensed, cringing at the use of “rightful”, because of course Thor was the rightful King of Asgard, for what about Loki could ever be _right_. “In your absence, while Thor and his Midgardian comrades fought heroically to protect the people of that planet from your schemes, it has been decided that your punishment will consist of reparations to the people you have harmed.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. It seemed too easy, too lenient. Even if Odin still thought of Loki as his son (foolish, foolish man who was not his father, could not be his father, could never be), the punishment would not be harsh enough to appease the court or the council. Rumours (later proven untrue) of his siring a child had once been cause enough to have him lashed, so surely attempting to destroy a world and over throw another would merit something much stronger in return? 

Reparations? 

What money did he have, Loki thought, that was not given to him by the All Father, what possessions could he donate that were not Odin’s possessions first and foremost, what could he give or do that Odin could not do himself? He met the King’s lone eye at last, and the blue of the iris was darker than Loki ever remembered it being. Sadder, in a way, but he snorted at the thought that Odin felt any regret at his actions, any shame. No, Loki was the monster that had been stolen away and kept for later use, to be released as a berserker and allowed to ravage as he pleased until called back and locked up again until further use could be found for him. He was not a son, not a brother; not an Æsir. The only sadness, the only shame, Odin could possibly feel would be at the knowledge that Loki had lived by the stillness of his hand, Loki’s actions had come about from Odin’s mercy, and so now there could be no mercy found. Never again. And Loki readied himself for that, because that couldn’t be all they had in store for him, this couldn’t be his punishment. There would always be more and worse and crueller for that was his fate. 

“We have negotiated with Jötunheimr in your absence, once we became aware of your continued existence.” Odin paused, turning to nod slowly at Thor. Thor in turn gripped tightly to Loki’s bicep, still kneeling on the ground beside his shamed sibling, keeping them both still. “King Blysteir of Jötunheimr has asked for your hand in marriage.” Odin’s words caused chaos in the hall. Loki jerked back as if he had been slapped, and by his side Thor’s eyes widened with shock and horror, and around the room people began to laugh and jeer and Loki heard each word as if they had been whispered directly into his ear. 

“Monster,” they whispered. He would wed a monster. “Jötun,” they shouted, but they did not know that he was one too. “Brother,” Thor breathed against his hair, and Loki flinched a little more at that because it was true, was it not. Whether Thor called him brother or Blysteir, the Frost Giant, the current King of Jötunheimr was his _brother_. 

Odin kept talking, uncaring it seemed that Loki’s world was crumbling beneath his feet. “It is I’m sure, obvious to you that you have nothing to give financially or materialistically that I could not provide in your place, as both would come straight from the treasury regardless of who would bestow it upon them. You are not stupid, my son. And it causes me no pleasure to do this, but you brought it upon yourself and so must face the consequences with your head held high.” Odin took a deep breath, glancing away from the pale face of his youngest son, and the tears on his face. “It is my decree that you will be married to King Blysteir this night. Reparations will begin with the conception of his child upon you and end with the successful birth of a worthy heir.”

Worthy, Loki thought as he tried not to scream through the gag. Worthy, so, not like him then? He wanted to ask. It was a loophole to ensure that any child smaller than average, weaker than average, should be cast aside and Loki’s punishment should continue on. 

“Have you anything to say?” Odin asked, glancing around the court. 

Loki had many things to say, but the muzzle across his mouth prevented words from escaping him. In his mind, he screamed for salvation, in desperation, for promises to make reparations to Midgard. _I will marry a Midgardian!_ , his mind screamed, unheard because his mouth would not move under his command. _There is a Midgardian I would happily have, one who would have me! One who has had me!_ Telling of his activities with Tony would be enough to guarantee they would marry. Pre-marital sex wasn’t unheard of upon Asgard, but only among the lower classes and those that took to such a profession. Lords, like Fandral, were notorious for paying for such affections, but Princes were expected to uphold higher standards. Neither Loki nor Thor had been to bed with another, which was why Odin had reacted so badly to the idea that Loki might have had a child somewhere, but it would also save him from marriage to a Jötun that was sure to make him suffer. _I have lain with Tony Stark! I am ruined, tainted! I am impure! No one else will want to marry me!_ Loki continued to scream to himself, as tears began to fall. He thought of what Blysteir might do to him, in bed and out of it, and he cringed at the thought that he would have to live with that for every day of his life. He wouldn’t survive, he wouldn’t be able to live like that, and surely he would be afforded no opportunity to escape, living or dead. 

He clenched his jaw, steeling himself, refusing to show further weakness. This was to be his future it seemed, and he would hold his head high and welcome it like the stubborn, spiteful creature he was. He had the memory of Tony as his first time, and nothing could take that from him, not even rape at his brother’s hands. 

When Loki turned back to the conversation, silencing the voice in his mind which wished to continue to scream and rage and cry, Odin and Thor had moved off to the side of the hall, out of range of the ears of those leaning forward curiously to hear what would befall Loki Liesmith. They whispered back and forth, hands waving and heads shaking frantically, emphasising certain words that Loki could not hear. But he waited, with bated breath, until Odin turned back to face him at last, and the older man let out a sigh so weary it rattled Loki’s very core. He fought the urge to close his eyes in defeat, bit his tongue hard to keep the tears from forming, and for once was glad of the contraption Tony had forced on his face because it kept him from pleading for mercy that would never be offered him regardless. 

“After a brief discussion with my son, Thor, I have come to realise that Jötunheimr was not the only realm affected by your wrong doings, Loki.” For half a second Loki felt hope, that Thor knew of his and Tony’s relations, that Odin might cast him down to Midgard, to Tony, as punishment instead, but then the All Father spoke again, and Thor’s arm was winding around his waist, and Loki felt what little resolve he had left crumbling. Odin’s words echoed in his mind, following him into unconsciousness as he slumped, helpless, against his brother- his fiancé. 

“You will begin reparations with your home, my son,” Odin had murmured, glancing at both of his sons with his hands clenched around the arms of his throne. “This night you will be wed to Thor, future King of Asgard.” Loki had fainted at this point, but Thor remained kneeling beside his brother, an arm wrapped around his waist and his face stony as he met his father’s one-eyed state. “May your relations be a fruitful one,” Odin whispered, unheard by the rest of the court, whose exclamations were loud enough to wake the dead. 

Thor nodded once. To marry a monster, his true brother, or to marry me, Thor thought, his brother in heart but not blood; which was worse? Loki would rail against both fates, Thor knew, but this was better in the long run. He would not torture Loki, nor harm him, or deprive him. Blysteir could not be held to the same standards, and perhaps he would have proved to be a good husband, but Loki would never have to suffer if he turned out not to be. And maybe Loki would despise him, but could Thor be hated any more than he already was? Would it even be possible, and if it would be, it would all be worthwhile. In a year, perhaps two, they would have an heir and Loki would be free, having served his punishment. He would be safe, and he would be loved, though not the way a lover should be, and he could hate Thor as much as he wished, as long as he _lived_. Thor scooped Loki into his arms, carrying him bridal style from the room after bowing to the All Father. Frigga followed them, remaining with Loki to prepare him for the ceremony. Thor left them after a moment of silence, in which he and his mother had watched Loki sleep, chest hurting at the sight of his brother so small and helpless spread out upon a bed that he would no long lie in from this night forward. 

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispered as he shut the door behind himself. Loki didn’t hear him, but his words made Frigga cry. 

_XXX_

It was a Sunday, and yet Loki found himself locked in his bedroom with his mother and four female attendants. He had tried to protest, once his gag was finally removed, that he couldn’t get married that night because it wasn’t a Friday; weddings only took place on Friday’s in Asgard, because it was Frigga’s day and she was the goddess of marriage. But his protests had been ignored, as his sobs were ignored, and he sat by his mother’s side with his shoulders shaking as his gyðja brushed out his hair, entwining vines from his ears to the base of his skull to keep it out of his face. 

“I’m not a woman,” Loki whispered, as they led him to the bath house. His legs were shaking and they felt heavy, and his heart beat a mile a minute within his chest every time he tried to breathe and found he couldn’t. Shock, he realised dimly. He was in shock. It would pass soon, and then the anger would return, the hatred and denial and spite, but for now he felt like he was trapped in his own body, forced to undress so that the servants could wash him while his mother watched, forced to listen as they whispered and giggled and told him all of the tricks for pleasing his husband in bed. He had tried to protest that he wouldn’t, had no intention of letting Thor lay him, to tell them had he had already been used and had appeared to please his lover well enough without their help, but his tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. So, instead, he turned to his mother, frowning, and opened his mouth wide when she bid him to take a drink from the same flask she had first offered him when he woke. 

He thought nothing of drinking from her flask when she offered; no suspicions arose in his mind, though even if they had he probably would have welcomed the numbness over the overwhelming terror that clawed to the forefront of his mind as the ceremony was about to begin. 

Thor waited for him at the altar, smiling widely (as if he were marrying for love, as if he had wanted this, because he wanted Loki to be happy with him) and his mother and the All Father waited with him. Thor held a sword, and Loki couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his lips when he recognized it. It was the sword Thor had wielded for most of his adolescence, while training against the guard, before he had won Mjölnir from Loki’s own hands. Ahead of him, already halfway to Thor while Loki remained hovering in the doorway, his gyðja carried another sword, Loki’s sword. With a frown the second prince reached down to his waist, but there was no weapon hanging there, nothing for him to offer Thor as a gift. Upon his head, someone was placing a crown made from branches and twine, decorated with moss and golden figurines. They pushed him forward, after offering him another sip from Frigga’s flask. 

His gyðja carried his sword, and Loki wore a bridal crown, but he was not a woman. He should have met Thor at the alter as an equal, armed himself, ready to exchange swords and vows, but instead he was undermined, humiliated, and he turned up his nose as laughter rang through the room. There were whispers of his crown, of his _obligation_ , and Loki flinched at the reminder that he was sworn to bare Thor a child. He was mocked when he took upon his female form, but here they all were now, forcing him to be female, with the added humiliation of knowing it was not chosen or welcomed, and that he was still very much male. 

It passed in a blur. Loki would have protested at the sight of the goat, because its horns were the symbol of his helm and because he had no wish to offer a gift to Thor. If they had to sacrifice any animal, to pray to anyone for fertility, it should have been a sow to Freyja for she had once been once of his magic instructors. But no protests left his mouth. His tongue was heavy and still and Loki squinted his eyes as a branch dripping blood was flicked in his direction. Some of it splattered across his face, and he turned to see Thor smiling and dotted with red; his mother likewise, and Odin lowered the _hlaut-teinn_ , and pushed the fir-twigs out of sight. 

They exchanged swords next: Thor offered his to Loki, and Loki took it after being elbowed by his gyðja. His gyðja offered Loki’s sword next, and Thor raised it in a toast before clasping it tightly in front of him, pummel up and the tip just touching the ground. They balanced the rings upon them, sliding one after the other onto their fingers, and Loki glanced down at his and felt tears well up in his eyes. It was beautiful, crafted out of gold and embedded with jewels, but it was bulky and heavy and nothing like he would have chosen for himself. Too gaudy (Tony would have chosen all rubies instead of a mix of different coloured gems), too arrogant, and it had Mjölnir engraved top and centre. Loki twirled it around, so that the hammer was hidden from view, and he clenched his hand tight around it until the gems cut into his palm as Thor admired his matching ring. 

There were to be vows, Loki remembered only as Thor began to speak. 

The words seemed to pass right over his head, and when his turn came, Loki could only blink in silence, silver tongue still glued to the roof of his mouth. Odin frowned, glancing at his wife in exasperation and asked, “Did you give him too much?”

“You told me to get him to sip every time he voiced complaint, husband.”

“I did not think he would complain too often. Surely he would prefer this than to marry a Jötun?”

Frigga sighed. She glanced at Loki, whose vows had still not been said, but who eventually was prompted to nod and who was kissed softly by Thor before the elder held their clasped hands together over their heads. Cheers sounded through the room, and Frigga clapped politely along with them, but she was not happy. Her Loki looked lost and confused, as he had done the day he found out the truth of his birth and the day she had offered him sovereignty over Asgard. Her heart ached to take him into her arms and hold him until everything was alright again. But she couldn’t, because he was Thor’s burden now, which was unfortunate for both of her sons. Though he meant well, Thor was not always able to do as Loki needed instead of what he wanted. 

“He dreamt of a man named Tony.” Frigga whispered, refusing to take her eyes off of Loki, who had finally begun to cry softly, as Thor let go of his hand and hugged as many well-wishers as he could at once. “I think Loki would have preferred to marry _him_.”

“His preference is unimportant, wife. You forget this is to be his punishment.” 

“And Thor’s too?” Odin glanced sideways at his wife, eyebrows furrowed. Frigga watched her sons; one who appeared to be happy, though he kept shooting Loki worried looks complete with furrowed brows like his father; the other who stood still, staring numbly at the ring on his finger put there by the wrong man. There was something off about Loki, something different, and though Frigga tried as hard as she could to sense the difference the potion she had been feeding Loki interfered too much, blurred what was his magic and what was Odin’s together until her head felt heavy and she gave up. But there was something wrong, something other about Loki now, and it would be Thor’s problem, to solve or remove, or if it was what she thought it was (based on the sounds Loki made in his sleep, the way he writhed beneath his sheets, primal and wild and restricted to those who were married or whores) Thor’s to defend. Loki’s honour could not be called into question, without it the marriage could be annulled, and Odin would be forced to resort to crueller methods to punish their second son; Blysteir would demand Loki regardless, perhaps not as a husband but a slave or a concubine, the council would demand he be tortured, and the court would want him executed. Though marriage was unwelcome and Thor would be difficult to bear for the first few months, it was better to be in a loveless marriage than chained to a rock and tortured. 

“Thor has always suffered when his brother did,” Frigga told her husband, recalling softly the times Thor had come to her in tears as a child because Loki had a nightmare and he didn’t know what to do to make things better. “And now, he will suffer as his brother does. This is punishment for Thor too, whether or not you and Loki understand this.”

She left him then, standing alone on the dais with only his thoughts for company, and she took Loki from Thor, along with his gyðja and left the room. There was a bride to prepare for his wedding night, and all customs would be adhered to, all traditions kept strong, because no one needed to know that this would not be Loki’s first time, no one needed to know Loki’s shame. She would not allow it, nor would she allow Loki to ruin himself, mistakenly or otherwise, so she held the flask to his lips again and tipped it. “Drink, my son, drink up,” she whispered to him, “you must hold your tongue for one more night.”

Loki glanced at her, green eyes wet and red rimmed, but he parted his lips obediently and drank from the flask. It tasted of honey and wine, sweet and strong at the same time, and it tingled as it went down his throat; its magic heady and sharp. He swallowed, licking his lips as his eyebrows drew down in confusion, and anything he might have wanted to say, to ask, vanished from the tip of his tongue as the potion did its job. Loki followed silently, with his mother’s hand on his arm and his gyðja at his back and the bridal crown still upon his head. 

He ran towards the feasting hall, dragged along behind Frigga who ran ahead of the others. The servants, who had bathed him before the ceremony ran behind him, laughing amongst themselves excited and amused, and most had gone through this before, experienced the bride-running, though only a handful had won. The unmarried woman were the louder of the bunch, giggling and wondering what it must be like for Loki, for Thor, how exciting. Loki’s feet moved without conscious thought, and he barely registered the sudden silence of the hall followed by cautious clapping as he beat Thor to the table, arriving first, winning for once. 

Frigga allowed his gyðja to pull out his chair before she moved around the table to sit beside her husband. The seat between Odin and Loki remained empty for another few moments, until Thor and his kinsmen appeared in the doorway. Thor bowed at the attention, his grin not faltering even after he noticed that Loki was already in attendance, cleaned up and face powdered and hair braided upon his head in place of the old crown. Tyr and Baldur smiled softly at their parents, though Frigga was neither of their mother, but nor was she Loki’s. They sat on Frigga’s other side, and Loki’s gyðja, who was one of his old instructors, stood behind the second Prince’s seat, waiting until he was needed. 

The goat they had slain during the ceremony was brought out, cooked and skinned, and offered first to the wedded couple and then to the King. Servants carried out barrels of ale next, and Thor stood from his seat to wave them forward. 

“The drinks are on me, my friends!” Thor shouted, as was custom after losing the bride-running. Not that it mattered, for the treasury would have boasted the cost of the feast one way or another. 

Loki was prodded into standing up by his gyðja. Bor, who had once taught Loki to read, cajoled the younger man to his feet and placed a _kåsa_ into his hands. He held it towards Thor without prompting; knowing from watching others marry what was expected of him. He thought, for a moment, about not doing it, not offering the drink, for the ceremonial drinking was a legality the marriage could not exist without. But Thor had his hands closed over Loki’s before Loki could finish thinking of pulling back, and his mouth was on the cup, his hands guiding Loki’s so that they tilted the cup so Thor could drink more easily. When he was done, Thor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded at his husband, guiding him back into his seat with one hand on his shoulder. 

Mjölnir was placed in his lap for the course of the meal, and the words Frigga spoke turned Loki’s stomach. He was pinned to the chair, until the meal neared its end and Thor took back his hammer. Its weight against him, too much like the time he was pinned to the bifrost, took away any hunger Loki might have felt. There was no desire for wine or mead, and the smell of ale made him heave so he pushed it away. 

His mother continued to pray for grandchildren. 

“Bring the Hammer the bride to bless: On the maiden's lap lay ye Mjölnir. In Vor's name, Loki then our wedlock hallow!” Frigga smiled towards Loki, leaning forward so she could see him from behind Odin. The All Father watched, a soft smile on his face, because punishment or otherwise weddings were a joyous occasion and even Loki must see that this was a better future for him than punishment on Jötunheimr. Once the potion wore off, Loki would see, and it would be too late for him to protest or lie and claim he was used or with child to avoid the ceremony, because undoubtedly Loki would try anything to escape punishment. 

Loki did not eat, but his brothers ate more than enough between them, from their plates and from Loki’s own, that it slipped beneath the queen’s notice while she dined herself. And though he was hungry, Loki made no move to neither claim food for himself nor voice his protests when Thor took food from him, and Frigga led him from the room still hungry when the meal was ended. There would be more feasting the next morning, and for five nights after, and Thor and his kinsmen would be allowed a day to go hunting, to bring back enough food to keep the festivities going, for the more they hunted the longer they ate, and the more prosperous the marriage would be. But that would be tomorrow, and Loki would have the day to himself to come to terms with married life, and in any other situation acquaint himself with his husband’s family. 

But for now, there was one final necessity that had to be met, one more trial for Loki to be forced through, with a little more potion from Frigga to help him bear. 

Before the morning could come upon them, they had to get through the wedding night. 

_XXX_

Thor followed his elder brothers towards Loki’s rooms. Loki slept where he had always slept, from the time they were deemed too old to sleep in one room together, in a suit of rooms that consisted of a bedchamber, library and receiving room. Thor’s own rooms were similar, but his had a small pantry as well; Loki was rumoured to hoard food in his library since he used to eat so little at the evening meal. 

Tyr and Baldur, though sons of Odin, did not live near them. They stayed in the palace, but bastard sons of the King were not permitted in the family wing permanently, for no matter how much Frigga claimed to love them as her own they weren’t hers. Baldur was too kind to feel bitter or petty, but Tyr, from the moment he had learned Loki to be adopted, had hated with such a dark, consuming blackness that it made him feel sick to look upon the other. It didn’t help that the child once rumoured to be Loki’s had been borne by Tyr’s own wife. He had forgiven that slight, after Loki had been suitably punished, for Loki had not started those rumours. But to be a child not _even_ of the King, never mind not of Frigga, but to live as Thor did, to be held in esteem as Thor was, while he and Baldur were considered dirt under the boot of some for most of their childhood was unforgivable. And though this was not Loki’s fault either, it was easier to blame him than to blame the King for marrying Frigga instead of Tyr’s own mother. 

Baldur held a candle above his head, and Thor followed the light, hands shaking at his sides as his kinsmen led him on. He did not expect Loki would be particularly pleased by this last part of their ceremony, but it was one that could not be skipped. Legally, there needed to be six witnesses of the consummation of marriage, and though traditionally most turned their backs on the couple, Thor had already overheard his brother’s talking about watching. Loki had been surprisingly compliant all day, and Thor prayed to all deities that had ever looked favourably upon him that Loki’s calmness continued for the rest of the night. He had no wish to hurt his brother, nor to force him; but consummate the marriage he would have to whether Loki wished it or not. Especially since the others would be watching. 

They found Loki spread out upon his bed, the bridal crown sitting snuggly on his head with his hair spread around it like a halo. Thor swallowed heavily, for that was all Loki was wearing, and while brothers, Thor could not deny that Loki was a sight to behold. He was long and lean, and though there were bruises around his ankle from the Hulk’s grip and his ribs and chest from Thor’s punches, it didn’t distract from the paleness of his skin. Loki looked like a nymph, frail and supple and solely existing to tempt men into damnation, or a Selkie, to lure lustful sailors out to sea never to be heard from again, and Thor found himself drawn towards his brother with wide eyes and shaking hands that had already begun to unbutton his own tunic. 

“Ah,” Thor murmured, spotting the burning oils Frigga had left dotted around the room in cups and burners and wherever else she could pour them. “Aphrodisiacs,” he whispered as he crawled onto the bed. Spices and sage, honeysuckle, jasmine and sandalwood, filling the room with its scent, almost stronger than the desire that Loki reeked of once Thor was close enough to smell him. He plucked the crown from his brother’s head, twisting around to hand it back to Baldur who waited to take it from him, to hold it and protect it, until their daughter had need of it, just as Bor, Loki’s gyðja, would keep Thor’s sword in trust for their son. The aphrodisiac would make it easier, quicker. And now that Thor thought about it, Loki’s calmness was likely a result of a potion or spell as well. In the morning, he would rage, but, hopefully, not too soon as to interrupt the Morning Gift. 

“Brother,” Thor whispered, running the back of his hand softly down Loki’s left cheek. Loki turned into the touch, murmuring a name that was not Thor’s but that was acceptable because Thor would have been with Jane if he could so it was only fair that Loki had another to think of as well. 

“I will lay you now,” he murmured, trying to block out the sounds of others talking softly behind him. Tyr and Baldur were side by side, Baldur holding the crown and Tyr with the _hustrulinet_ that Loki would wear in the morning. Both were murmuring, though only Tyr found amusement in the situation. Bor was standing at the door, along with Frigga, acting as Loki’s family, along with two of the female servants that had helped Loki bathe. Odin, not wanting to take sides and incur Frigga’s anger if he chose wrongly, chose to remain outside of the room, standing with his arms folded and one foot pressed back against the wall. 

Loki’s brows furrowed, and his mouth moved again, but it was slurred and incoherent and Thor flinched as arms came up to shove him away. “No, please no,” was what Loki had tried to say, what he wanted to scream, but Thor’s hand had moved down his body regardless of his indistinguishable pleas, and fingers that were slicked with oils offered by a servant were already probing at his entrance and Loki cried again because this wasn’t what he wanted, and this wasn’t who he wanted, and he could do nothing but lie there and take it because his family had stripped him of his right to refuse, to defend himself. If he could fight back, if Thor was forced to force him, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, because at least he would have struggled, but lying there, consenting? It was the worst feeling in the world, and Loki found that breath was harder and harder to draw in the closer Thor came to penetration. 

When Thor deemed him prepared enough, he moved up along Loki’s body and pressed a kiss to his brother’s lips. His cock nudged against Loki’s entrance, and the younger God tensed at the hint of pressure that started at the base of his spine and worked itself upwards as Thor began to push in. Green eyes, still wet, squeezed closed unable to look at Thor, and he thought instead of the only other who had been inside of him, and of _their_ lips when Thor was finally seated and his mouth was pressed hard to Loki’s. He tried not to feel the drag of Thor’s cock against his insides, and even drugged as he was Loki could feel bile climbing up his throat, desperately trying to claw its way to freedom along with his voice, but the potion silenced one and Loki swallowed the other back because this was humiliating enough without him getting sick on himself in front of an audience. 

Thor panted above him, blue eyes fixed on Loki’s face, and one hand wiped away the tears as the other clutched Loki to his own body, crushing him. And Loki hated it, hated how trapped he felt, how he couldn’t breathe properly, how he couldn’t push hard enough to get Thor off of him. Tony had never pinned him like this, Tony had kept one hand beside Loki’s head the entire time to keep his weight off of him, kept Loki bent so his cock could touch something inside of him that made him see stars and so there was room between them for Tony’s spare hands to explore all of that pale flesh. There was no room between him and Thor; Loki kept his legs up around Thor’s waist because that’s where Thor had guided them, and their chests were flush together and their mouths kept meeting even though Loki kept trying to turn his head and Thor’s left hand _stayed_ on his face to wipe away the tears and fuck! Wasn’t it obvious he didn’t want to do this, wasn’t it apparent? He kept crying, and Thor kept cleaning his face instead of just stopping and Loki didn’t care that people were watching, Loki didn’t care that they were judging him, enjoying his suffering, he cried harder because even as Thor hurt him and even though Loki hated him, he knew that Thor was trying to take care of him at the same time. 

But he wouldn’t stop until it was done, so Loki lay back and kept his eyes closed and prayed that Thor would hurry up and finish and climb off of him so Loki could suffer in peace. He thought of Tony, Tony above him, Tony against him, and he moaned for the first time that night as he remembered the feel of Tony against his back, pressing him down across the counter in the man’s kitchen, bourbon discarded beside them and clothes pooled around them on the floor. Encouraged by Loki’s moan, Thor thrust harder; pleased to have finally begun to please his husband (for of course Thor had never done this before and did not know what he was doing and Loki’s lack of encouragement wasn’t helping him either). 

“Anthony!” Loki hissed; a garbled mess of a word that couldn’t quite escape his lips. But he was lying on his belly instead of on his back now, legs dangling over the edge of the counter, feet firm against the floor. The mortal was behind him, fingers playing with his hole and Loki hissed again, seconds away from begging. 

The alcohol had been knocked sideways, dripping a little at a time onto the floor but neither man cared. Their clothes had been hastily discarded and Loki’s under-shirt remained on, though it didn’t stop him from hissing at the cold metal of the counter every time it brushed his nipples through the cloth. Hands were firm against his arse, kneading the cheeks as Loki moaned for more; fingers one after the other disappearing inside of his body as Loki screamed, half sobs and choked pleas of “fuck me, fuck me now” escaping him with every touch Anthony offered; finally his cock was lined up to take him, and Loki arched his back more, displaying himself and ignoring any hesitation he felt, any insecurity, because so far Tony had been pleased by his body and his inexperience had yet to be commented on. And he was made for Tony, so he felt no hesitation whatsoever. 

He reached back, parting his cheeks himself, and he turned to glance at the human over his shoulder. “I would have you now, please?”

“Please?” Tony repeated, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I could get used to that.” 

Loki’s heart gave a hard thump in his chest because Tony’s words implied that they would be doing this again, that the mortal might keep him, and that pleased him. He moaned, long and low, as Tony pushed into him. There was no pain and hardly any resistance, because a hand rubbing his lower back and whispered words of encouragement and plenty of lubricant had him relaxing. 

“You feel incredible, fuck Loki. So tight!” Anthony praised him, after he had bottomed out. 

“Move! Move!” Loki demanded. The newness of the sensations had reduced him to near incoherency, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine how to express himself, how to demand what he wanted and needed, but Tony seemed to know, because he pulled out almost all of the way, until Loki was sobbing at him not to stop because he thought Tony was going to leave him like that. Then he pushed back in; one sure thrust that had Loki’s toes curling down into the floor, knees buckling, only kept up by both of Tony’s hands on his hips, pinning him against the counter. His own hands scrabbled at the metal, trying to find purchase and he ended up stretched out as far as possible, fingers curling over the other edge of the counter and nails making horrible scraping noises every time Tony’s thrusts rocked his body. 

Tony stayed standing straight, resisting the urge to lie down over Loki and feel every inch of him, because this way he could thrust upwards as well as forwards and it made Loki feel fuller (not that there was anything wrong with the size of Tony’s equipment, but, well, only the best for Tony Stark’s lovers). His hands were holding Loki’s hips hard enough to bruise, and they would Loki knew, perhaps not on the skin unless he was very lucky, but he could feel the touch searing him down to the bone and every time he walked from now on he’d feel the ghost of Tony Stark holding him tightly. 

Loki could feel his stomach tightening and knew from however often he had touched himself that he was very close to release. Before he came he reached back with one hand, lacing his fingers with Tony’s and both hands moved under Loki to grip his cock, stroking together until he came across them and he slumped bonelessly down onto the counter with a soft moan, but Tony didn’t follow him. 

“Anthony?” Loki sounded close to tears. He glanced over his shoulder, refusing to let go of the hand he held as the other man pulled out of him, still hard. “Do you not wish to…?”

“I’m not done with you yet, gorgeous.” Loki found himself on his back, face to face with his lover and then pulled forward into Tony’s arms. Instinct had him jumping up, wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist, though they still trembled from his orgasm and Tony had to hold him with both hands under his ass and Loki clinging to his neck as Tony walked them to the couch. He dropped Loki down, and the God landed with his legs akimbo and his arms above his head, and he kept them there because the heat that sparked in Tony’s eyes at the sight of him made something burn hot and low in his stomach and Loki _liked_ being looked at like that. Tony lay down over him; pressing him into the sofa at first, long enough to guide Loki’s legs up and around his waist, before he pulled back a little. He kept one hand on the arm of the sofa, beside Loki’s head and moved until he was almost on his knees, with Loki balanced in his lap and bent backwards and Loki screamed as Tony pushed back inside of him. It felt different to having been taken from behind, there was more pressure, a little more pain, but he was still relaxed enough from his first orgasm to enjoy both. 

His arms didn’t stay over his head for very long; they wrapped back around Tony’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair and occasionally ghosting down his back, nails raking their way back up as Tony hissed into his mouth or against his neck. Anthony’s other hand was under his back, holding him up and pressing Loki’s cock hard against Tony’s stomach. 

He could come just from that, Loki thought, from the head of his cock rubbing furiously against the muscles of Tony’s abdomen with every brutal thrust the mortal offered him of his own cock. He tried to fight it off, tried to push it back, because it was too soon from the last time, too early because if he came now it would be over because Tony was close too. But his eyes squeezed closed and when they opened again brown eyes were staring down at him, blown wide with lust, and pink lips were slack as Tony came. Loki felt it inside of him, sticky like his own release, spilt between their stomachs a moment later, but different because it belonged to another, because it was inside of him instead of in his hand, and he wriggled a little clenching his muscles to keep it inside of his body even as Tony pulled out. 

Anthony sank down on top of him then, smiling widely as he pressed soft kisses to Loki’s neck and chin and the God found him didn’t mind the weight of the other pinning him in place (like he so terribly hated how Thor would pin him when they sparred or how Mjölnir had pinned him on the bifrost) because they were naked and sticky and Tony was whispering how brilliant he had been into his skin. 

“It was better than I had ever dared to hope for,” Loki told him softly, preening at the praise he was receiving. 

“What?” Tony glanced up, shifting around until he was on his knees with Loki’s legs in between his and he looked down at the dark haired man with a frown. “This was your first time?” He chuckled as Loki flushed, not quite believing it until the God turned his face away embarrassed. “Hey, hey, really? Shit why didn’t you say something?” 

“It is not unusual in Asgard for one to remain pure until they are wedded. Except for the lower class and those who, well, you know, sell the profession and those who buy, though we do not talk of keeping such company in respectable circles. Though Fandral always does, and as a friend of Thor’s no one will reprimand him,” Loki muttered, suddenly looking annoyed and Tony kissed his face softly, first his forehead then each cheek until the frown had slipped from his mouth completely. “I have followed the rules, until now, where I find myself beneath you and completely unable to regret it. Surely you felt it too? When we first touched?”

“I did. There’s something about you, Rudolph, and I intend to find out what.” He seemed to have completely forgotten about the invasion, or about the Tesseract that had powered itself on without Loki’s instruction as he swept the God into his arms. They entered the bedroom, mouths fused together and one of Tony’s fingers buried to the second knuckle inside of Loki’s hole. “First times are meant to be had in a bed. So let’s start over, hmm, gorgeous?”

“Yes,” Loki breathed, arching his back to get more of Tony’s finger, bending his head to better reach Tony’s mouth. “I am yours, wherever you will have me.”

When they were finished, Loki tensed, waiting with a thundering heart for Tony to throw him out. But the mortal didn’t: he pulled Loki closer instead, one arm winding around Loki’s waist to keep him close and Loki allowed his head to rest against Tony’s chest breath fanning over the strange piece of metal in his chest. It smelt like magic, and Loki breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of it and of Tony and sex. The bed was soft, even though he was half lying in an uncomfortable wet patch, so he shifted closer to Tony and away from it, and reached down for the blankets that had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed. 

Loki’s skin tingled lightly as Tony ran curious fingers across his chest and along his shoulders. Invisible sparks jumped between them, just like the first time they had met when Loki had just taken Barton, sneaking around to gather supplies while his minions set up their new base. They had bumped into each other on the street, and Loki hadn’t been told enough yet by Barton to recognize him, but his skin had tingled and his hair had stood on end, and he had watched wide eyed with his heart beating frantically in his chest as his One kept walking down the street. But then Tony had turned his head, rubbing lightly at the hand that had brushed against Loki’s and when their eyes met Stark had winked at him. It was only the presence of one of his stolen soldiers at his side that had kept Loki from chasing after the mortal, which had kept his mind on Thanos’ task. Again, his goal had slipped his mind, and he lay entwined with one of his enemies in their bed as war raged outside of the blacked-out windows. 

“Shit!” Tony hissed, jerking upright in the bed and nearly elbowing Loki in the face. “Shit!” He was out of the bed before Loki could question him, grabbing his pants and pulling them on quickly. There was a roaring over their heads, the Tesseract inviting the Earth’s would-be conquerors over to play and the Hulk roared back in return, beating his chest with his oversized hands. “Jarvis deploy,” Tony ordered, running out of the bedroom. The suit shot towards him, moulding around him even as he moved, and Loki watched with wide eyes at Midgard’s magic, similar to his own conjuring of amour, but tasteless, scentless. The arc reactor tasted of coconuts and Loki’s magic of pine, but the suit smelt like a forge and not magic, but it had built itself, flown itself and Loki was in awe of Stark’s achievements. 

“You are leaving?” He pulled the blankets against his chest, trying not to show how vulnerable he felt. His lover had invited him into his bed, fucked him in his bed like a partner or a wife, when whores were strictly kept outside of the bedrooms. If they had remained in the living room, on the sofa or across the kitchen counter Loki would not have been surprised; but here, in their room, he was being abandoned? It would never have been heard of on Asgard. 

“I’ll be right back,” Tony promised. 

“Sir,” a voice that was spoken by nobody that Loki could see called out insistently, “the Director is calling for you.”

“I know Jarvis,” Tony said, pressing one finger against his ear and the little black wire that was wrapped around it. The faceplate of the suit closed down and his voice was muffled, becoming strange and rough but no less Tony’s. “Tell him I’m on my way.” He left without saying goodbye and without being able to see his face Loki couldn’t tell if Tony had even looked twice at him before flying away, but he waited in the bed for as long as he dared. But when the Tesseract turned off and the portal in the sky exploded and then closed and Thanos’ hold on his mind trembled and broke away, Loki was already back in the kitchen, sprawled across the ground where the Hulk had left him. Humourlessly, he thought that he should have stayed in the bedroom, the risk of dishonour could never be as painful as this, he mused as he tried to pick himself out of the crater the Hulk had made with his body and failed. But he was glad he had dressed and emerged, found by the beast with a drink in one hand and the other (not at all sentimentally) running across the kitchen counter top, because when Tony came back for him it was with his colleagues and none of them looked happy to see Loki. 

He turned his head, rolling over on the ground so that he could sit up and face them. Loki allowed his eyes to flutter open, waiting to see Tony’s half smile, the one he had tried to hide from the Avengers but the one Loki had seen nonetheless, but instead he saw Thor. His brother’s mouth was slack, breath hot on Loki’s face and that one hand still insistently wiping the tears from his flushed face. Blue eyes were wide, and along with the pain of doing this, of forcing this, there was happiness and pride because Loki’s stomach was sticky with his own seed and his chest was heaving from the force of his orgasm. He wished he could speak, but his tongue was still too large for his mouth; wished he could tell Thor he thought of Tony, never of him, but he couldn’t. Instead, feeling Thor’s release inside of him, Loki finally found the will power to resist his mother’s sedative. He screamed, a horrible broken sound that was unable to completely escape his mouth, slack and useless as his tongue was right then, but it was loud and desperate. Hands pushed at Thor’s shoulders, and Loki threw his head from side to side, trying to escape the sight of Thor still basking in his orgasm. 

“Brother?” Thor asked, sounding as concerned as he suddenly felt. “Did I hurt you?”

Loki screamed again, hating the concern, hating the kindness; because rapists had no right to feel bad after the fact, had no right to try and catch his face and calm him down to make themselves feel better. Loki wanted to scream ‘I hate you’ but his silver tongue had turned to lead and instead he cried, uncaring that the others were watching him still, uncaring that Tyr was laughing loudly in the background because Thor was still trying to make things better, and nothing ever could. 

“That is enough,” Frigga announced loudly. She began herding people towards the door, pushing them out when they didn’t move fast enough. “The consummation is completed. Tomorrow we will gather again for the Morning Gift, but for tonight it is done. Please, make your way home.” 

Loki’s gyðja, Bor, moved towards the bed, and touched a hand lightly to Thor’s shoulder, encouraging him to move away from his husband. Loki tried to scramble away, but his legs shook and his back and hips ached and Bor grabbed hold of him with both arms, bands of steel around his shoulders, while Thor made him drink again from Frigga’s flask. “Sleep now, my son,” his mother whispered as his vision began to dim, “it is over now.”

_XXX_

It must have been a dream, because Loki could not remember leaving Asgard after his wedding to Thor. He could not be on Midgard, and yet he was. But it was not a dream, rather a memory, and Loki smiled as he watched Anthony Stark hurrying down the street towards him, eyes focused on a handheld device that he was reading, not watching where he was going. Consequentially, he walked into Loki. Their free hands brushed, the one not holding the StarkPad and the one Loki had held out purposely, knowing what came next. Sparks danced between them, and Loki watched stunned, failing to notice that none of the other people that had been on the streets with him were there, not even the man under his sceptre’s influence. It was just Tony and him, but the mortal kept walking, rubbing furiously at his hand, StarkPad tucked between his ear and shoulder so he could focus on the hand that felt like it had been electrocuted. 

He turned then, brown eyes meeting Loki’s for a moment before one winked closed and pink lips grinned, and Loki felt his legs give out. They trembled—

–and someone caught him, arms around his waist as kisses were pressed to his forehead, and Loki struggled to force air into his lungs. 

“Hush, my son, hush,” Frigga whispered into the top of his dark hair. Her hands drew circles on his back, stopping occasionally to squeeze him closer before they resumed their attempt at comforting him again. “All will be well. You’ll see.”

“Why doesn’t she love me anymore, mother?” He cried, hands pressed against his eyes to stop the useless spill of tears that were escaping him. “We are to be married next week and she… she says she doesn’t love me any longer. I don’t understand what I did wrong?”

They pulled apart so that Frigga could look at Loki’s face while they spoke, and he trembled, remembering Sigyn’s words to him: I have found him, Loki, I have found my One and he is not you. 

She was sorry, he remembered, for leaving him, for breaking his heart. 

“I thought I was her One.” He sounded so sad, like the small child he used to be who couldn’t understand why Thor’s friends didn’t like him. Again Frigga didn’t know what to do to make things better for him, but she knew what to say to help him feel better for a moment or two. 

“You were not her One, my love, so she could not have been yours. But I promise you, there is someone out there for you, for everyone, and when you meet them you will know it. That it took you time to love her, to want her, even weeks after your first meeting with her only proves you were not meant to be, but you were happy so I did not protest. Now I tell you, now I am free to say that I did not want you to marry her, not because I didn’t like her, but because she is not yours, Loki. He or she is still out there.” She pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, like she used to do before he had learned to pretend he did not hurt all of the time. 

“How will I know?” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose with the edge of one sleeve. 

“When I met your father, he was betrothed to Tyr’s mother. Their wedding was the very next day, but he had been called away to Alfheimr and as the new King he had no choice but to do as his duty commanded him. He met my brother and me, children of a dying King, and an agreement was reached and then broken moments later when Odin kissed my hand goodbye and I refused to let him go. There was no need for a peace agreement then, Loki, for we were married then and there and I swear to you, the first second his hand was upon mind I felt the ground move and the stars came out from wherever they hide during the day and set the sky on fire. I could not have breathed right then even if I were forced to, even after he had let my hand go, because his hands were not upon me. You loved Sigyn, I know that and it hurts to lose her, but when you find your One they will have no thoughts of leaving you, and that my child will have to console you for now.”

Loki snorted. “Well,” he said after a pause, trying to appear nonchalant despite the tear stains on his face and his red eyes, “at least you tried, mother. Thor just brought a tankard of ale and left it at the door for me.” He rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Your brother wishes to take care of you, forgive him for not understanding how.” She stood up, brushing down her skirts and turned once more to smile upon her youngest child. “You will just know,” she promised again before she left. 

And he was on the streets of New York again, hand held out in front of him and Anthony Stark walking away from him. Loki swallowed back the cry that threatened to escape him, because didn’t the mortal realise that he wasn’t supposed to be _leaving_ Loki now? His mother had promised him that, and yet… 

Then Tony glanced back again, eyes searching through the crowd, looking for the dark haired man from moments ago. But Loki’s minion had already dragged him away. 

_XXX_

Loki woke slowly. 

Like struggling to swim to the surface after almost drowning in an ocean, he felt groggy and heavy and weak, but he struggled on until his eyelids were fluttering and a croaked, “wha” managed to spill from his lips. He gasped, pain shooting up his spine, worse than the morning after he had slept with Tony, and Loki squeezed his eyes closed again, fighting to breathe through the pain. Tony had been rough with him last night then, he thought, mind still unfocused. Loki assumed it had been in punishment for his failed attempt on the earth, but that wouldn’t explain why both Bor and Frigga were waiting at the side of his bed.

“Drink this,” his mother whispered, as she handed him a chalice. He hesitated and she added, “It’s for the pain.” 

That sold it to him, and he grabbed it out of her hand, swallowing the lot of it in one go before he remembered that she had drugged him already, and why. Loki gagged, trying to spit out what little remained in his mouth, but it was too late. Spittle covered his bottom lip and chin, and Bor reached out slowly to wipe it away. He held the _hustrulinet_ in his other hand, the cloth straight and white and Loki retched again at the sight of it. A basin was pushed under his chin, and Loki grabbed it from them while he still could, coughing and sputtering over it though nothing actually came up. He glanced up at his mother, green eyes wide and watery and she flinched at the hurt that shone from them, like knives to her stomach and she shook her head sadly as she said, “I only want to help you, Loki. It’s almost over with, I promise you.”

“I found him. My One.” His words were starting to slur again, and his head suddenly felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Loki dug his nails into the palms of his hands, trying to fight off the potion, using the pain to ground himself because he needed to say this, needed them to know this. “You took him from me!”

“Oh, Loki!” Frigga sighed, pressing one hand over her mouth and the other against her heart. Now drugged and, so, compliant, Loki allowed Bor to help him stand and clean himself up. They dressed the Prince in silence, and Bor attached the _hustrulinet_ over his head, worn like a veil, once Frigga was finished braiding his hair up on top of his head. “Just for a year, my love, just one child and you can find Him again. He will be waiting for you, I know he will.” 

Perhaps he would, Loki thought: because though Tony had left him on the streets of New York he had found Loki again later in his tower, and though he had left him there too Tony had come for him during his second detainment with SHIELD, while Thor negotiated for control of the Tesseract and his brother, and they had fucked again and they had stayed together this time, wrapped around one another while Loki slept, the cameras turned off and Jarvis keeping watch through the corridors. Loki had woken alone, but Tony had been the one to collect him from his cell, to bring him to the others and to let him go again, though his time he had not been smiling when Thor took Loki away. 

Perhaps Tony would wait for him, they were made for each other after all and even the mortal had been able to feel it when they touched, but he would not be waiting for the gestation period of one child, but two. Because this child _was Tony’s_ , not Thor’s, and it would not fulfil Odin’s requirements. And Loki would not allow anyone to hurt this child, to kill it or take it from him or abort it. It was for fear of that alone that he allowed his mother to lead him to the dining hall, Bor following along behind him. If no one knew about Tony then they would never know the child was not Thor’s, and when the child was born Loki would be free and he could take his child and run and perhaps Tony would grant him sanctuary. Stark had offered to help him once already and Loki would choose to believe the man had been sincere. 

Frigga knew about Tony, Loki realised with a sudden jolt of fear. It turned the blood in his veins to ice for a moment, but then she held out the flask again, and he frowned, still angry, still hurt, but now he understood. He shook his head, trying to explain without the ability to speak or move his hands around that he did not need the potion to hold his tongue for him, that he would not tell anyone about Tony. It was too late to tell; he was married, he had been bedded unwillingly already, telling everyone about Tony would not spare him from his fate, instead, it would invalidate his marriage to Thor and undoubtedly Blysteir would demand him then as compensation, being honourless, pregnant and unmarried there would be nothing to keep Loki in Asgard if Blysteir asked for him. 

Then he heard Thor laughing from inside of the hall. The hallway seemed to echo with the sound, unbearably loud even through the thick doors, and Loki felt himself shudder at the sound. He didn’t hurt anymore, but there had been bruises on his skin that he had noticed while dressing, adding to the scant few left by Tony (those ones welcomed but fortunately over looked by Thor and the others, thought to be remainders from his failed invasion). His stomach twisted at the reminder of his brother – his husband – and the sound of his enjoyment, while Loki was out here trembling in fear and shame, angry with everyone and himself, and pathetic for wishing that his mortal was there to save him. He opened his mouth, eyes on his mother’s face. 

“Oh sweetheart,” she murmured, obediently tilting the flask to pour some of the potion into his mouth. “Just a little longer,” she repeated, before urging him forward. Bor opened the doors and led them inside, Frigga behind him and Loki last. 

He followed, his feet unsteady and his legs uncooperative, but the potion was working faster now, in a larger quantity, and before he had reached his seat Loki felt calmer. His head hurt, and the smile on his face was more like a grimace but he was able to greet Thor with a calm nod of his head, instead of clawing his eyes out like he really wanted to. 

“Good morrow, brother!” Thor stood as Loki took his seat, side by side at the table with Frigga and Odin to Thor’s left. Loki’s old seat, from before his sentencing, the one beside Frigga had been taken by Tyr (who had never been invited to sit with the royal family before). Tyr looked altogether too pleased with himself, and the majority of the others eating looked amused too at the sight of Thor handing over the keys to the royal quarters to Loki, someone who already had his own keys. But that was part of the ceremony, so Loki reached up for Thor’s keys, taking them with the tips of his fingers so he would not have to touch Thor’s hands and leaving them on his empty breakfast plate. 

A rolled sheet of parchment was handed to Loki then, and he glanced around the hall once more, taking in the amused faces, the indifferent ones, the handful of horrified glances he was thrown, and the one blond woman who looked hell bent on revenge, before taking the scroll and unrolling it. Bor read it out loud for him, moving away from the wall he was resting against to stand right behind Loki’s chair and lean over his shoulder uncomfortably close. 

Loki didn’t listen, knowing that the scroll would be his to keep and he could read it over later; react to it in private if it were nothing but bad news. But whatever he did now didn’t matter. The morning-gift had been drawn up with him in mind but without his consideration or consent. It was his dowry, and the sum of all the things he would bring into the marriage and keep should the marriage end in divorce, and a list of conditions that set out his marriage, duties to fulfil and reasons for the unions. Those that married for love did not have to worry about the last portion of the morning-gift, but Loki did, and worry about it he would. But not where people could see his humiliation (again) and study his reactions (again); he would wait. Thor and the warriors would be gone soon, to spend the day hunting and it would take some time because the more they brought back the longer the festivities would last and Thor and Loki had been told time and again how Odin’s wedding feast had been seven days long. Thor would want to match that at least, if he could not beat it. 

The one thing Loki did take note of was the promise to release him once the conditions were met, and he clung to that promise, ignoring the cries of outrage that echoed through the hall because one child was not a punishment, marriage was not a punishment and rape was not a concern on Asgard where everyone could defend themselves against a potential assailant (except Loki, who had always been weaker, who had already suffered through it once with Svadilfari and been laughed at for it then too, who had been drugged this time, to keep him from talking about Tony, about the child he _knew_ he carried for Tony, and who was being laughed at yet again). Voices demanded more of a sentence, but Odin silenced them with a tap of his fork against his plate. 

His sentence had been passed. His sentence would stand uncontested. Loki would have to live with it, not the others, so they had no right to complain that it wasn’t harsh enough. Thor’s arm around his shoulder made him cringe, the fear that made his heart stop beating and made his stomach heave and his throat tighten was harsh enough and the ants that crawled beneath his skin (the shame, the weakness, the vulnerability) were worse this time because it was Thor, who had defended him from the taunts the last time. Thor, who had killed Svadilfari for assaulting him, though the horse had not known any better, and who had killed the giant then too. Thor, who had wiped the tears off of Loki’s face as he raped him, unable to understand why he was crying because Loki would have stopped him if he really hadn’t want to, surely? And that made Loki flinch too, because of course he hadn’t wanted to, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to believe _him_. What was it they were saying? “Better Thor’s husband than a Jötun’s whore”, but at least with Blysteir Loki would have known, would have struggled and not felt as if he had allowed it to happen, trusting his mother every time she gave him a drink, consenting to drink, to being weakened and raped. Blysteir would have hurt him, probably killed him at some point, but at least Loki wouldn’t have felt like an accomplice to his own assault. 

“Come,” Frigga whispered. She was standing over Loki now, pulling him out of his seat. Thor clapped him once more on the shoulder; flinching at the flinch Loki gave, before moving to join the Warriors Three. Sif was with them, and she frowned at the sight of Loki pale faced and waxen, eyes still red from crying and the way he limped after his mother. 

“Did you hurt him?” She asked. She had not heard details of the wedding night yet, though half of the servants were happily telling everyone who would listen how beautiful Loki looked when they had left him spread naked on his marriage bed. 

“I did not think so,” Thor answered her, his eyebrows drawing together. “I will make it up to him if I have done so!” He exclaimed, smile wide and bright as usual, and his friends nodded in agreement, because now Loki was his husband, future King of Asgard and not just Thor’s horrid little brother they did not like. Now they had to be civil, if they couldn’t be nice, because it would benefit them to be. 

_XXX_

Loki waited alone in his rooms until the potion wore off. They had tried to guide him back to Thor’s rooms, where the married couple should be together but Loki’s legs had locked outside of his old bedroom door and he had found himself unable to walk any longer. Bor had picked him up off of the ground and brought him inside, ignoring the servants who waited outside of Thor’s door further down the hallway with food for Loki (who had not eaten at all during breakfast). Frigga had waited at the door until Bor returned, having left Loki lying on his childhood bed, curled pathetically around a pillow with his knees drawn up to his chest. 

When the potions effects had lessened, Loki sat up slowly, trying to ignore the ache at the base of his spine. The first thing he did was to call for a servant and demand a bath. He watched them bring in the water, bucket after bucket, and pour it into the large copper tub that took up most of the space in Loki’s bath chambers. There was a fountain and a urinal, two cabinets and a large mirror that Loki avoided looking at because judging by the looks the servants were unsubtly sending him, it would be best to avoid his reflection for a time. They carried in an unused chamber pot as well and left it on the ground beside the tub. 

Loki dismissed their offer of help. Frigga had cleaned him before his wedding, removing the seed Tony had left behind (because SHEILD certainly had not let him freshen up before shipping him back to Asgard with Thor) and had allowed the servants to help her. But he would not, not again. He had been unable to protest then, unable to care for himself, and he had sunk low enough already without willing spreading his legs for the first person to offer to clean him out. Loki was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and his first priority, before he could think of doing anything else, was to get anything of Thor’s _out_ of him. Two dirtied cloths later, left abandoned in the chamber pot, and Loki was ready to get into the bath. 

The water was barely warm, but a quick spark of magic had it heating up. Loki lay in it, his chin underwater right up to his bottom lip and every movement he made sent water sloshing up over his nose and he thought of opening his mouth wide and letting it all spill inside. But he didn’t. And when the water turned cold, Loki stayed right where he was, feet poking out over the edge of the tub, face as close as he could get without drowning and one hand pressed over his stomach. When his skin began to turn blue from the cold, and then turn _blue_ Loki didn’t fight it. It was his Jötun heritage that had enabled him to get pregnant by Tony, before Thor and his mother’s fertility spells could interfere with him, and if this was to be the only child he would have by his One then Loki was glad for the chance, even if he still couldn’t bear to look at himself in this form. 

A knock sounded at the door and Frigga walked inside without waiting to be invited. 

Loki stood in the bath, feet sliding a little on the wet copper, all of his muscles tensing up at the look on his mother’s face. His skin had turned pale again, the grooves that marked him disappearing from sight as the azure faded away, but a flush had taken up on his cheeks and anger burned in the green of his eyes turning them back to red. 

“What now? What more do you want from me?” He demanded as he strode towards the cabinet that he kept his towels in. He wrapped one around his waist tightly like a sarong and took around to drape around his shoulders, hiding as much of his body from view as possible. 

“No one can ever know, Loki,” Frigga told him, sounding determined and worried all at once. “Not until this punishment is done and you and the child are gone from here.” Loki’s mouth dropped open, his face displaying every bit of the horror he felt churning inside of him. There was bile climbing up his throat, but the heart that had lodged itself there and kept him from breathing evenly prevented him from getting sick. Frigga smiled sadly at him, shaking her head softly. “Did you think you could hide it from me? I am the Goddess of Fertility, sweetheart, did you think I would not know of the child you carry?” 

“Mother, I-” Loki started; pausing because he did not know what else to say, had no excuse to give. 

“The spells took very well, did they not? Such a fruitful union,” she whispered with a smile. “And it will spare you from another unfortunate coupling. Thor will be pleased when he is told, as will your father.” 

Loki’s eyes were narrowed as he met hers. How, he wondered, could she know he was pregnant but not know that he had been since he returned? He had spent a full day on Asgard before the wedding and it had been mere hours since the consummation, any pregnancy that could have resulted from his union with Thor would still be unnoticeable, the embryo not yet implanted, even to the Goddess of Fertility. His mouth formed a circle, dropping open as Frigga smiled again at him, blue eyes as sad as Loki had ever seen them. She knew, he realised, and yet she was willing to lie for him; for them, Loki corrected himself as he pressed a hand to his stomach again. 

“As am I,” Loki finally managed to say, as tears burned the corneas of his eyes. “Pleased, I mean.”

“I know, my love.” Frigga smiled softly again, looking a little less sad, and Loki managed to offer her a smile back. “Your father is on his way.”

Suddenly all of the anger was back. It crashed over him like a tsunami, beating him down and under and Loki thought he was drowning again, head heavy and limbs unresponsive as he was dragged away with the retreating tide. All that was left was anger, pain and fear. There were no more smiles for his mother, no longer did his hand press against his belly, and any forgiveness that might have been stirring in his heart sputtered out and died like fire once the water reached it. Loki could practically feel the steam curling out of his ears, so angry was he, and he grabbed the closest thing to hand, hurling it at the door just as Odin stepped through it. 

“I despise you!” Loki screamed, red bleeding over his eyes again, cheeks flushing darkly. His lips were pale when he pressed them together and he needed to keep two hands on the cabinet beside him to stop his legs from collapsing under him when the All Father finally spoke. 

“If you default on this union, if you try to leave or harm Thor in any way to avoid this union, automatically ownership passes to Blysteir in place of Thor. Would you rather be in Jötunheimr, my son?” Loki flinched at the word, turning his face away as he clenched his teeth. “At least here you are home, amongst friends, and secure in the knowledge that Thor would never purposely hurt you or any children you bare him.” 

Loki snorted loudly. “What friends?” He cried, throwing his arms in the air, because he knew where this was going, he knew how this conversation ended, as it had always ended, with Loki remaining unheard no matter how loud he screamed. But he continued to talk as Odin took a seat on the bed beside Frigga, allowing for once Loki to remain taller than his King. “I have no friends here. I have no home! I had hi-” He cut himself off, a fist pressed to his lips to keep his secrets from spilling out. He would not speak of Tony; he would not endanger Tony or their child. 

“Thor never _means_ to hurt me,” Loki continued, his voice now little more than a whisper, “and for that I have forgiven him time and time again. Yet, he always seems to hurt me, over and over, and this? This I cannot forgive. That you would drug me! That he would pin me down and take me unwilling! Had you even considered explaining your plan to me, did the logical course not plot itself out in your mind, All Father?” He was snarling now, teeth sharp and white and lips curled back to bare them. “Or did you think I was so far gone from reason that I would not so much as consider lying with Thor willingly to avoid slavery upon Jötunheimr? Or,” he added, voice softening, and he moved now to kneel before his never-parents, towel miraculously continuing to cover him up, to take one of each of their hands into his own, holding them tight like a lifeline as the anger inside of him continued to surge like stormy waves, “do you hate me so much that you think I deserve that, to suffer through that again?” 

They looked at him blankly; unable to comprehend what he meant because rape was something that just didn’t happen upon Asgard. There were those who would sleep with you for money, and those that would pay you to sleep with them, there were travellers from other planets who did not stay virginal and would willingly spread their legs for a few sweet words and some cups of liquor (or so Fandral had told them), and the rest of them stayed pure until they married and then they stayed faithful. Travellers who might have thought to attack an Asgardian in such a way were dealt with easily, as all the Àss were competent fighters, strong and battle ready, more than capable of fighting off one lone attacker. Even the servants were capable of fighting off drunken advances, giggling even as they dodged wandering hands and insistent tongues. 

Only Loki had ever been compromised in such a way, only Loki had ever suffered such a fate upon Asgard, but fortunately for his honour he was a mare at the time and the union bore a foal, not a child, so he could still consider himself pure. Unsullied. Untouched. As if he had never been raped, as if his attack had not counted, because only Loki could be so weak as to have deserved it, or perhaps even he could not be so weak and he must have wanted it: a trick, perhaps, to avoid losing his virginity completely while still managing to have sex? There were those that thought so, their words making Loki feel sick even now after all of these years since he heard them spoken, and there were those who genuinely understood he had been attacked, but even then it had been an _attack_ , not a rape. Because rape just didn’t happen on Asgard. Rape wasn’t something the Æsir had ever had to acknowledge and it hurt so very much to know that no matter how much he suffered as a result of it no one would understand or even care because it had only been Loki affected, only Loki hurt. Most people were of the opinion that Loki always got what Loki deserved. 

“I was raped,” Loki told them through clenched teeth, “again.” Saying it out loud somehow made it all the more real and Loki cringed at the words, at the echo of them ricocheting around his brain along with the memories, and he squeezed his eyes closed to try and block them out, missing the look his parents shared. 

“Sweetheart?” Frigga asked, using her other hand to close over Loki’s, squeezing it between the two. “I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to protect you from being hurt.” Loki knew she spoke the truth; he had, after all, come to the same conclusion. She had drugged him to keep his tongue still, to prevent him from digging his own grave by speaking of Tony and the child they had both known he was carrying; to still his hands so that they would not hurt Thor, because to hurt Thor would make him Blysteir’s husband instead. But Odin continued to stare at him with that familiar furrow between his eyebrows, the one that was always present whenever he and Loki argued and the All Father could never seem to figure out his youngest son, could not understand him, or comfort him. It hurt more, Loki thought, because Odin continued to try, even though they both knew he never would understand. 

It was a word Loki had used only once before, after returning from Midgard where he had secluded himself shortly after guardianship of Sleipnir had been transferred from him to the stable hands. He had been raped, he had claimed, using the Midgardian word as a defence, claiming he could not be blamed, that Sleipnir could not be blamed, for the actions and the consequences were not Loki’s fault. He had been the victim and so could not be victimised. But the strange, new word had not helped Loki then, for the Asgardians had only rolled their eyes or laughed, or worse, congratulated Loki for successfully distracting Svaðilfari from his task. It did not seem to be helping Loki now either. 

The God sighed. “You never mean to hurt me either,” Loki conceded quietly. “I am tired,” he added, moving to open the door for them. “Please leave.”

“We shall walk you to your rooms,” Odin offered, standing to walk to Loki. The younger God shrank away from Odin’s hand, not wanting his touch. No matter how well meant it would be the thought of Odin’s hand upon him made Loki’s skin crawl. 

“These are my rooms, All Father, and I will be remaining here.” 

When Odin opened his mouth to protest, Frigga laid her hand upon his arm, fingers curling around the wrist as she began to tug him towards the door. Loki closed his eyes, not wanting to watch them walk away from him, even though he had told them to leave. They should stay, he thought angrily, stay and comfort him, tell him it’d be alright like they used to when he was young. But instead they picked now to start listening to him, to walk away when he needed them most because he had _said_ they should. Didn’t they know by now that he was a liar? Didn’t they know him at all, he mentally screamed at their backs. But he bit his tongue to keep it silent and he kept his eyes closed until he heard the door clicking shut. 

When they were gone, Loki ran to the door. He didn’t care enough to keep hold of his towels and they both fell off of him as he ran. The one around his shoulders lasted the longest, half over one should and half down his back as he lay against the door, his back flush with the wood, as if trying to barricade it closed with his body. He cast a locking spell, and then another, and another, everyone he could think of. 

When he was done, he sank to the floor, knees coming up so he could curl his arms around them, bury his face between them as his shoulder shook. Loki cried quietly, knowing that his servants were probably waiting right outside of his door but he didn’t have it in him to tell them to go away, to have to talk to any more people today. So he cried, and he hid his face against one thigh, his arms shaking as he held him, naked on the cold floor with his back against the locked door that he expected to be beaten down by Mjölnir any minute now. But Thor was gone hunting, and he had at least a day to cry until he was out of tears. So he picked himself up, half stumbling to his bed where he collapsed again, face still wet and limbs still trembling. One hand covered his stomach and the other curled around his pillow so it was half over his face, and he sobbed, louder now that he could muffle it properly and since he was further from the door and from nosy ears. 

He didn’t stop crying until he was asleep. When he woke up, he cried some more. 

Thor didn’t come to see him for two days, by which point the celebrations were well underway and people had finally begun to notice that the bride was missing. When Thor knocked quiet insistently at the door, Loki managed to hide himself feeling as if he were a small child running scared from shadows again as he shuffled under his bed and tugged the sheets down enough so that they hid him. Thor wouldn’t see him unless he crouched down and actively started looking, which he never did, despite under the bed being Loki’s favourite place to hide (after checking that no monsters hid under there first). A clone answered the door, and Thor noticed no difference between this magical copy and the real Loki whose face was still wet with tears. 

The celebrations went on for a full eight days, one more than Odin’s wedding feast had lasted, and Thor was enormously proud of the fact. Prouder still when he came to Loki’s rooms on the eight day and insisted that they lay together, only to be told that Loki was already pregnant, and from their first attempt too! Loki threw his brother magically back out of the room. Sif, who had come with Thor, realising that Loki probably needed someone to talk to and magnanimously volunteering to be that person, because a loveless marriage was cruel on anyone, even those black of heart she figured. She had her own son, long grown up and moved away from her home after his father had died years ago in a war that she could barely remember the cause of. Better than any of Thor’s friends she remembered the feelings that came with pregnancy. 

As Thor picked himself up off the ground, shaking off the plaster and dust that had rained down on him as he cracked the wall upon impact, Sif shooed away the gaping servants. “Hormones,” she told the Prince with a smile. “Get used to it, my friend, you have many more months of Loki’s temperaments to go.” She took hold of Loki’s arms and began to drag him from the room. “Come on, let’s get you to a healer and have your babe checked over. Thor,” she narrowed her eyes at her friend as she spoke, “your presence is no longer needed here.” 

Though there was no doubt that Thor loved his brother and would love this babe too, Loki did not look like someone who wanted the father to take an active part in his pregnancy. What was best for the babe was what was best for its mother, after all; Sif could remember every healer she attended telling her as much during her pregnancy, forcing her to put away her sword and take up weaving (which had been far more taxing for her than swordplay had been in honesty, but she had done what was best for the child). Loki would too, undoubtedly, judging by the way he kept his hands pressed protectively against his stomach and his eyes narrowed on Thor’s hammer as if waiting for an attack. 

But Thor merely raised his hands helplessly, backing away down the hall with a wide grin splitting his face. He would leave Loki be until he calmed down, as was always the best way to deal with his brother, and in the meantime he would tell his parents of the child, and tell his friends, and shout it from the rooftop too if no one stopped him in time. 

Loki watched him leave, pride and pleasure equally on his face, chest puffed out like a peacock at his illusory potency, and Loki almost felt bad for lying to him because Thor seemed so genuinely pleased at the idea of a child. But lying was something he did well, and often, and lying was for the best for his child: so lie, Loki would. 

_XXX_

TBC

***

I left it up to Runic whether I should post it now or wait until it was all done (this is part 1 of 2 and 2 is only part done) but she left it up to me, and I figured it took me this long to get this far… It would be cruel to make her wait any longer.


	2. Beauty's Release

40 A4 pages and almost 20k words for one chapter and it only took me about 2 months! Wow. I need a holiday now… Let me know what you thought. 

Runic, sorry it took so long, but I did warn you to wait for me to post it all in one go :P 

* * * 

**Words:** 19,709  
 **Chapter 2**  
It was three months from the date of the conception, just under three since his marriage to Thor, when Amora found him. She had been searching for him, but the ever elusive Loki lived up to his name. He was found only when he chose to be found, mostly by his mother, and seldom by Sif who had taken on the role of his mid-wife despite his protests. He would rather his mother care for them, but she was busy being Queen of Asgard and consoling Thor over his lack of anything to do with the child so far. 

Loki could lie about the child’s parentage, lie about his loss of virginity before marrying Thor, but he couldn’t bring himself to let Thor fawn all over him, hands fluttering reverently against his stomach, lips pressed there to the child within, like he imagined Tony might do. That would be too much, too cruel though he never intended Thor to find out the truth, his hope was that Tony might adopt the child (Tony who would be told the truth when it was safe to tell it), to make the child _his_ in name and so never Thor’s. It was kinder for Thor to never know the child, never learn to love it or grow attached, because it wouldn’t be on Asgard long enough after the birth for Thor to formally meet it. The child was Loki’s, and Loki would take him or her with him when he fled to Midgard. 

“I know,” Amora whispered as she stepped out from behind the willow tree that Loki was sitting beneath. The bench had been put there years ago, Odin having grown weary of finding Loki with mud stains on the seat of his pants, from reading in the garden curled up under that tree. Loki stayed where he was sitting, one hand over his still flat stomach and the other curled around the edge of the book he had been reading. 

“Know what?” He asked his old teacher with a confused tilt of his head. 

No one was supposed to know yet. He had only told his family and Thor had only told his closest friends. He had yet to pass the first trimester, and many things could still go wrong though Loki fervently hoped they wouldn’t, but an official announcement of his pregnancy wouldn’t be given until he was at least showing. 

“Don’t act sly with me, Loki. I taught you that.” Amora laughed then, soft and girlish, and her blond hair swung over her shoulders as she rounded the trunk of the tree and took a seat beside him. “Congratulations,” she added, with her teeth suddenly on show, “despite its parentage.” 

Now, with anyone else, Loki would have assumed they were talking about him, but with Amora one could never be too sure, so he narrowed his eyes at her and waited, choosing to stay silent rather than incriminate himself. That was usually the best way to deal with Amora; silence, until her curiosity got the best of her. 

“I overheard you speaking with the Queen last week. I’ve been trying to find you since; well I was searching for you before but for a different reason.” Loki raised his eyebrow again, a silent ‘continue’, even as he readied his magic to silence Amora once and for all. “Before I was just going to threaten you, warn you to leave Asgard and Thor alone once your sentence was complete, but now I realise such threats are unnecessary. Let us be honest with one another, as difficult as that may be for you, Liesmith.” She smirked, the quirk of her lips making her eyes crinkle in a way that Loki had once found attractive, long before her desire for Thor turned her into a raving bitch. “You wish to leave here, don’t you? To return to your child’s sire?”

“Yes,” Loki admitted softly. What was the use in lying to her when she already knew his truth?

“I can help you leave,” she whispered, leaning close to his ear so that he could feel her lips move as she spoke. “I can bring you far from here and you’ll never have to return. All I ask is that you swear to never return for Thor. Let him believe the bastard is his, for all I care, but once we are wed _I_ shall give him children and I don’t want you trying to steal his attention from _my_ child. I think I’m being quite reasonable,” she added when Loki only stared at her with wide eyes. 

“You are welcome to him, my lady, and all the children he can give you. I swear, once I leave, I will never return here and nor will my child.” The magic at his fingertips had dissipated. Both hands were pressed against his stomach again; there was no bump yet, but soon there would be, and soon if he could believe in Amora’s words he would be away from Asgard and back with Tony Stark. 

“However,” Loki interrupted Amora’s happy agreements to his earlier words. He had his magic, he could use his magic to leave any time he liked, but the trouble was that his magic would no longer work anywhere but on a planet. If he tried to leave Asgard by his usual means, his magic would wane and fizzle out and leave him falling once more through the void. It was a fate he would never subject himself to again, not even in the direst of circumstances and Odin knew it, knew his fear and his nightmares when he looked inside of Loki’s head to push back Thanos’ darkness in the months since his punishment began. It was cruel, but it was the best thing for his kingdom and, in the long run Odin believed, for his child. Heimdallr would sooner slit his own throat than allow Loki use of the Bifrost, that was only half repaired (a bargain Loki had struck, his help in the repairs for the continued use of his magic), and neither Odin nor Thor were stupid enough now to be talked into lending him the Tesseract. Both knew Loki would run and hide, hope Jötunheimr never found out, and neither were willing to take the risk that Loki might be discovered, so they kept him trapped upon Asgard, in his gilded cage that was as much a prison as where Shield had kept him. 

Amora rubbed at her forehead, eyebrows creased in concentration. “The Isle of Silence is connected to Asgard,” she told him eventually and Loki cringed as he remembered the last time he had been there, trapped and silent until Amora had rescued him then too. “I do not wish to be caught helping you escape, but if you transported yourself to the Isle your magic would work for the journey, the same as teleporting from here to your chambers. From the Isle, I will take you to Midgard?” She waited for Loki to nod in agreement, letting her know her guess at his lover’s race had been correct. “I will hide your presence from Heimdallr until you cast your own spell, but from there you are on your own, Loki. Are we agreed?” 

Loki held out his hand in silence, waiting until Amora had taken hold of it, fingers caught between his own, before he had squeezed her fingers until she winced. He nodded his head. “We are agreed.” 

She pulled her hand away with a scowl, curling and uncurling her fingers to work the feeling back into them while shooting him an accusatory glare. “Do nothing until you receive my signal.” She left him sitting there, hair flipping over her shoulder as she sauntered away, and Loki watched her go in silence. He’d know her signal when she gave it; he’d always had. 

_XXX_

It was the day Odin announced the impending birth of his first grandchild – _first_ , Loki thought with an angry scowl on his face, as if Sleipnir was not his son also – that Amora made her move. People cheered, raised their glasses in a toast to _Thor_ ’s son, crying out the first Prince’s name in a chant that could probably be heard as far away as Heimdallr’s conservatory. 

It was hard to tell who looked prouder, Thor or Odin, both seated behind the lone raised table in the dining hall, with Frigga smiling softly beside them. Loki was seated at Thor’s other side, scowling darkly as he met Amora’s gaze in the crowd. 

She nodded, narrowing her eyes at a passing servant, before turning her gaze back to Loki’s. She didn’t glance away again until the servant had approached the head table, his face strangely blank as he grabbed the jug of wine that was Loki’s to pour for his husband and poured it onto Loki’s lap instead. The God jumped out of his seat, an angry hiss escaping his lips as he brushed the liquid off of himself. He stopped short of using magic because, amongst the shocked cries that echoed through the room and Thor’s bellows of, “how dare you?”, Amora’s pointed cough was rather obvious. Loki’s hands stilled, leaving his tunic soaked through and clinging to the tiny bulge that was his stomach now. 

“If you’ll excuse me, husband,” Loki whispered, trying to keep his voice demure and soft, but his gritted teeth didn’t do him any favours. Thor was well used to his faux-pleasant treatment by now anyway. “It seems I need to go change.” He strode from the table without waiting to be dismissed, purposely keeping his face turned away from Odin whose mouth was open, probably to order him to sit back down. 

Loki went to his rooms, changing his tunic quickly for something than would stand out less upon Midgard, a simple white shirt belted at the waist and then he grabbed a pair of black leggings, forsaking his usual leather breaches. He wouldn’t be able to wear leather much longer anyway, he consoled himself; one hand on his bump and the other waving in front of his face, fingers twisting to call clothing forth from various trunks in his room and into the worn satchel that waited at his feet. It had been half packed a month ago when he and Amora first struck their deal, but now he traded the clothing that had fit him then for clothing that fit him now: stretchy fabrics and loose shirts and wider waistlines. When he was ready, he took one last look around. This was likely the last time he would ever come home (not that he expected to be back here after his failed attack in New York but still). He allowed himself to savour the sight one last time, eyes fixing ultimately on the miniature portrait that was propped on top of his fireplace. It was of his mother, Thor and himself when they were children. He had been told that Odin had been forced to stand behind the painter, making faces, to keep the children’s attention facing forward, but as he grew Loki had thought instead it was because Odin had had better things to do with his time. That didn’t stop Loki from grabbing the framed painting and shoving it into his satchel. 

He vanished from his chambers. 

The Isle of Silence was as he remembered it, barren and cold and quiet. He couldn’t even hear himself breathing. Though, strangely, he could hear his heart pounding and the blood thrumming through his veins and the vibrations of magic that began with his child and spread throughout him. It was probably a by-product of his sudden anxiety, the fear that Amora would leave him here, that Odin would find out and trap him here and he’d have to suffer childbirth again without the ability to scream or cry or beg for mercy. 

But no, he reminded himself. Thor wouldn’t let that happen again. Not when it would endanger what he thought was his son. Thor wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it happen, nor would his mother, surely not? 

He would have screamed if he could have, so worked up was he, when Amora finally appeared, teleporting directly behind him. She grabbed his shoulder in silence, unable to speak a warning or clear her throat and Loki jumped, whirling around with his hands raised and magic green and deadly at his fingertips. She scowled at him, as if the silence was his fault, as if her being here was his fault, despite it being her idea. 

Loki rolled his eyes, lowering his hands at the same time. He raised one eyebrow in question, as a foot tapped impatiently. Amora grabbed him again, pulled him against her chest and mouthed, “Hold on.”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what the void had to offer him this time; having seen as much of it as anyone could stand once already. When he opened his eyes, he was on Midgard. 

“You took your time!” Loki shoved her away from him. He scowled as he pressed both hands to his belly and fought not to get sick. He imagined Heimdallr watching them, imagined Odin sending his guards to drag Loki back kicking and screaming, or worse, Blysteir coming to claim the body that should belong to him. 

“Don’t pout,” Amora chided with a giggle. “If they hadn’t announced your pregnancy then you would have run off without fulfilling your end of the bargain. At least this way, while half of them are busy looking for you, the other half will be wondering if it’s a boy or a girl.” She waved her hands, twisting them over her head in an intricate pattern that hurt Loki’s head to follow. Her magic had always been different to his, the casting more elaborate though it achieved the same results. “There. You’re hidden for the next six hours.” Spells cast upon oneself lasted longer than spells cast upon others, Loki knew that, but he had hoped to have a bit more time than six hours. He didn’t recognize anything, and didn’t want to risk casting magic before confirming Tony’s past promise to defend him. 

“Thank you,” he grudgingly said, though he did drop his torso into a quick bow. She accepted it with a smile, a deeper bow in return, and then she was gone without another word. Loki turned in a full circle, taking in the sights, trying to pin point his location. “Brooklyn Bridge,” he read off of a sign ahead of him, “sounds familiar.” He thought about it, the bridge-part obviously referring to the bridge that cars were crossing, but something about Brooklyn… something Barton had told him while he was under the sceptre’s influence. 

Steve Rogers was from Brooklyn. 

Loki grinned as the memory returned to him. If he was near the Captain’s birthplace, and that was near New York, then he must too be near New York. Being near New York meant that he was close to Tony, and so he grabbed the arm of the first person to walk passed him, thankful he had left his hair long and loose because the man muttered something about ‘crazy pregnant women’ which was preferable to a hysterically screamed, ‘it’s a pregnant man!’ 

“How do I find New York from here?” The man just stared at Loki, as if unsure whether this was a joke or not, but Loki assuming the man was simple or deficient tried again, “How do I get to Tony Stark?”

“That his kid?” The man snorted. “Good luck getting him to admit it. But keep walking towards there; you’ll see the Tower eventually.” He pointed away from the bridge, so Loki walked that way. 

_XXX_

The Tower was as he remembered it from his last visit, with only one noticeable difference. The giant lights that spelt out ‘Stark’ on the front outside of the Tower had not been replaced, instead the ‘A’ hung there alone. Though it was still Tony’s, the Tower now belonged to all of the Avengers, and at that thought Loki felt something like fear bubble in the pit of his stomach. What if they were all in there, he thought frantically, what if Thor was there waiting to drag him back to Asgard? 

But he pushed it down, three deep breaths and eyes squeezed tightly closed helped him get control over his emotions again, and when he was calm he entered the building. There were people everywhere, carrying briefcases and clipboards and cell phones and other things Loki had never seen before, things he had heard of in passing from his minions but that he couldn’t fathom the purposes of. There were soft looking seats against one wall, strangely shaped things that looked more like balls stuffed with foam or feathers to give them buoyancy than actual chairs, but people were sitting in them. Along the opposite wall was a desk, with a woman in a pretty suit dress behind it, arguing frantically with someone on the phone. There was a line of people waiting in front of the desk, and after a quick second glance around Loki joined the back of the line.

When he got to the front the girl was on the phone again, her tight ponytail making her face look more severe than it should and Loki winced at the glance she shot him as she hung up. “Welcome to Stark Industries New York branch. How can I help you?”

“I want to see Tony.” The girl tilted her head to one side, meeting the eyes of a security guard that had wandered over at the sight of Loki’s shabbily dressed appearance (by Stark Industries standards at least). “Stark,” he clarified impatiently, one hand on his stomach again. “Anthony Stark. He’ll want to see me. Bring me to him.”

Loki’s demands were ignored, and instead the security guard dragged him out of the queue, taking the God completely by surprise. Loki went with him, assuming that they must be going towards Anthony, but as the front door started getting closer Loki finally pulled away from the mortal making the man stumble and fall over. 

“You dare dismiss me, I, Lo-” His angry tirade stopped abruptly as he bit his tongue. He had almost announced himself, in his anger and anxiousness Loki had almost told the world who he was. It would be pointless using Amora’s magic to hide from Asgard if he was too busy running from SHIELD, and before he could even speak to Anthony as well, how foolish was he! How stupid pregnancy had made him, he thought with a snort, recalling Sif’s many compassionate lectures about the ‘baby brain’ epidemic that apparently affected women mid-way through pregnancy. “Very well,” he said primly, looking down his nose at the guard who was half-way back on his feet. 

Loki stormed out of the door, ducking around the corner of the building and into an alleyway just in time to avoid several other guards who came out to look for him. It was this or nothing, he told himself even as his heart beat its way out of his chest. He hadn’t wanted to use magic so soon but if the mortals would not let him see his lover then Loki was left with little choice. A flash of light and some green smoke saw his disappearing from the alley and reappearing in Tony’s penthouse living room, beside the same counter he had lost his virginity on. 

“Sir,” Jarvis dutifully informed his master, “you have a guest.”

“Security breach!” Tony called, half-amused, figuring it was probably Coulson (whose death had been a great exaggeration) or Pepper. He had told her about Loki, and while she hadn’t been happy about it, they had decided to try and work things out. It had been an awkward three months though, and neither one had said it out loud yet but they were no more a couple now than Tony and Steve were, but she stopped by occasionally to bully him into doing some work or to watch a movie together in awkward semi-silence. It was neither Pepper nor Coulson, nor Bruce who had an open invitation to live in the Tower, along with use of the lab Tony gave him, (as did the other Avengers, but Tony really wanted Bruce to stay). It was Loki, and Tony’s mouth dropped open as he caught sight of the God, hands around his waist as he hugged himself, glancing warily in Stark’s direction. 

“Hello, you,” Tony greeted, hand half-raised in a rather pathetic attempt at a wave. 

“You offered me a drink once and I did not collect.” Loki looked everywhere but at Tony as he spoke, afraid that to meet the eyes of his One would be akin to letting down the last of his defences, to giving up and giving in and allowing his legs to collapse beneath his weight in the hopes that Tony might catch him- which he mightn’t. 

“Have you come to collect?” There was a bottle in one hand already, two glasses in the other, because when Tony worked his charm on someone he wanted, he worked fast. 

“I’m afraid that will be impossible for the next six months at the least. However, if you are amenable, we can agree that you owe me a, what is it, a ‘I owe you’?” Loki allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch, less than a smile but Tony found himself returning it with a confused furrow between his brows. “Are you not going to ask me why I wish to postpone our drink?” 

Tony poured out the drinks, despite Loki’s words, taking a sip from his own as he headed back to the bar to grab a bottle of cola. “Fine, I’ll bite. Why?” He pulled out one of the stools by the bar and offered it to Loki who hesitantly slid onto it, fingers clenching around the bottle Tony had offered him.

“Is it not customary on Midgard for those carrying young to abstain from alcohol?”

“Well yeah, but you’re not a-” Tony trailed off, what had started as a chuckle began a strangled ‘ugh’ of confusion as Loki let go of the bottle to grab his free hand, pressing it to the bulge of his stomach, which was more pronounced when he was sitting. “What?” Tony asked, pulling his hand away with wide eyes and shaking fingers. “Explain.”

“I always knew it was possible, I just didn’t expect it to happen like this. I should explain,” Loki said softly, before taking a deep breath. “I am not of Asgard originally. Where I am from we have only one gender, both sets of reproductive organs, but only some can actually carry children.”

“Like woman here, some can, some can’t, but they’re all made the same way. Are there treatments?” Tony slid onto the stool beside Loki. His drink was gone now, so he reached over for the second glass and took a sip. “Did you plan it?”

He was taking it remarkably well, Loki noted, though he didn’t know that Jarvis was currently scanning his biometrical data to determine whether Loki actually was pregnant like he was implying. 

“No! Well, yes, there are treatments, fertility spells, certain herbs and potions, but that is on Asgard. I know next to nothing about the place I come from, nor have I ever cared to learn. But no, I did not plan this. Of course I am pleased, that I carry your child. We are to be a family, of course I’m pleased! Some Asgardians wait centuries before they are blessed with children, but I did not expect it to occur naturally. I did not do this to…” Loki trailed off, swallowing loudly as one hand rubbed at his suddenly wet eyes, “This was not an attempt to trap you.”

“Hey, hey! I didn’t say it was. I was just asking. Explain everything, from the beginning yeah? Where have you been? Shouldn’t you be being punished on Asgard?” Loki flinched at Tony’s last question and Tony reached out to cup his cheek. “Hey now, not gonna hurt you, ok. Tell me what’s happening.”

So Loki told him of his punishment, Odin’s decree that he should marry and breed with his true brother, and leaving out Thor’s name for fear that Tony would side with his brother-in-arms instead Loki told him of how an Asgardian had petitioned to take Býleistr’s place as his husband. Loki gave no reason for the Asgardian to have done so, but Tony assumed the man must have been a friend of his, must have wanted to protect Loki in some small way, until Loki started to talk about the rape. His husband hadn’t meant it, Loki was quick to clarify, he had expected Loki to fight back, but he had been drugged because his mother was afraid that Loki would tell people about sleeping with Tony. 

“You were crying!” Tony hissed, jumping from his stool so he could pace beside the bar angrily. “He should have known to stop even if you weren’t physically fighting him!” Tony’s hands curled around the edge of the bar, squeezing the metal in an attempt to calm himself down. “And they drugged you? Fuck, Loki!” 

“The child is yours though, I swear he is!” Tony glanced at him, not arguing the point because if it was or it wasn’t Tony wasn’t letting an innocent kid go back to a place that might end up treating him the way they had treated Loki. “If Asgard asks though, will you tell them the child is my h-husband’s? They cannot know of you, they will take me from you and- and,” he sobbed loudly, teeth gritted together to keep similar noises from spilling forth, “they will take our baby away.” 

“No one is taking our baby away,” Tony promised. His eyes were narrowed in thought, already mentally cataloguing the options available to them, planning and back-up planning for every possible eventuality his mind could create. “I’ll take care of you, and the baby, don’t worry.” 

“I was afraid and I wanted you to come and save me. But you weren’t there.” Loki’s voice was soft and sad as he allowed Tony to pull him off of the stool and into a hug, his face pressed against the mortal’s throat. 

“I’m here now. I’ll take care of everything, I promise.”

Loki considered telling his lover about how they were soul-mates, intended to be together forever and how Loki had betrayed that by letting Thor have him, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment. Instead, he hugged Tony closer, allowing himself to bask in the comfort, the safety the man exuded, kisses pressed to Loki’s hair and the skin of his neck warm and soft against Loki’s cheek, arms tight around him. 

“I love you,” Loki whispered instead, because he felt it deep within his bones, had felt it from the first moment they had met when their hands had accidentally brushed on a Manhattan street and Tony had turned around to wink at him. 

_XXX_

Tony didn’t have much faith in the, what Loki called, ‘Healers’ on Asgard so after he had fed the God and showed him to Tony’s own bedroom to rest, he went in search of Bruce. He was in his lab, which comprised half a floor filled with whatever it was Bruce was working on currently, plus a desk or two covered in notes on how to reverse the effects of Gamma radiation (he was on a highway to nothing, but far be it for Tony to scoff in the face of science). There was a duffle bag of clothes by the door that Tony always managed to trip over, but so far none of Bruce’s things had made it to the bedroom on the other side of that floor. The whole level was Bruce’s, because Tony really wanted to live with his science buddy, but so far the other scientist was being stubborn. 

Clint was living there, only because he was too lazy to keep travelling back and forth from SHIELD’s new base whenever there was an attack, and Natasha lived here because it was cheaper than a hotel and she was already well used to Tony’s terrible living habits. Thor was in Asgard, but Tony had left a floor for him, full of gadgets and technology that were all at least ten years old so Tony didn’t care if Thor broke them all. Steve’s floor had a gym on it, a lot of modern technology that had made the man really uncomfortable when Tony had shown it to him, and he’d declared he’d be more suitable remaining in his dingy one bedroom flat in Brooklyn. It was sort of what Tony was going for anyway, passing it off with a comment of ‘whatever makes you happy’ while hiding the vindictive smile that curled the corners of his mouth. 

“Hey Brucey!” Tony sing-songed. He attempted to jump over the duffle and failed, leg getting caught in the strap. “Brucey, my Brucey!”

Bruce chuckled as he turned. Tony was leaning against the doorframe, looking for all the world like he was posing there with one hand on the door and the other on his hip but Bruce knew he was only catching himself so he wouldn’t fall. It was a vicious cycle, but far too amusing, so Bruce didn’t correct You whenever the bot cleaned, and dragged the bag there out of the way and never put it back. “What is it, Tony?”

“You know how you love me and we’re buddies and you’re my back up plan for if I reach sixty and haven’t gotten a nursemaid yet and you’ll marry me and give me sponge baths?” Bruce’s cheeks took on a hint of pink, but he was smiling so Tony continued to babble. “Loki is upstairs in my bed and pregnant and I need you to make sure the baby is ok. Please and thanks and don’t get angry, Brucey!” Tony wasn’t particularly afraid of the Hulk, yes there was a healthy dose of caution in his posture whenever the green giant made an appearance, but there was no fear for himself. Even now, Tony’s arms flung wide; spread across the doorway as if to trap the Hulk inside if Bruce changed. 

Bruce took a deep breath and let it out, a horrible rattle deep in his chest as he fought to keep calm. “What?”

“Well…” Tony glanced around nervously, “it’s a long story?” 

“Tony?” Bruce stepped towards him, laying his hands heavily onto Tony’s shoulders and making the shorter man gulp. “What is going on?”

“So I maybe fucked Loki once, a few times, on separate occasions, and now he’s having my baby, and Pepper knows but not about the baby I need to tell her that part, but uh, well Asgard sent him here as part of his punishment and yeah can you check on the baby?” 

“Have you been drinking?” Bruce asked, able to smell the scotch on Tony’s breath. 

“Yeah, but, what’s that got to do with anything? I’m always drinking!” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t hurt him ok? Asgard was pretty shit to him these last couple months. Also, you know, he’s mine now and I don’t like people touching my stuff.” 

Bruce followed him, with his hands clenched at his sides, breathing deeply with every step he took. When they reached Tony’s bedroom, after a quick stop off at the ‘medical room’ Pepper insisted on stocking since Iron Man was forever coming back from missions injured, Bruce was a lot calmer than before. Tony was a little less nervous but he ducked into the room first to warn Loki just in case. 

The God looked tiny in the bed, was Bruce’s first thought on seeing him. He was tucked in up to his chin, green eyes wide and fearful as he gazed towards Bruce, flicking in Tony’s direction occasionally for reassurance. His hands were pale and long fingers gripped the sheets under his chin to keep himself from bolting. Bruce couldn’t see anything that hinted at a pregnancy, the duvet was too bulky, but when Tony pulled it down, prying Loki’s grip off first, and wrenching up his shirt Loki’s stomach just looked like he’d eaten a little too much. 

“Not too far along then,” Bruce noted to himself, pulling a stethoscope from his pocket and looping it around his neck. 

“Where’s the ultrasound? Are we not having an ultrasound?”

“Tony, why would I have one of those in the Tower? You’ll have to bring him to an actual hospital for that.” 

“I could buy one? Could you use one if I bought one?” Tony glanced over at Loki who was still staring wide-eyed at Bruce. The doctor (though not of medicine, despite his experience with it) placed the stethoscope on Loki’s lower stomach, frowning as he concentrated. 

“Yes I could,” Bruce affirmed, even as he moved the device around. “There’s a heartbeat.” 

“Loki’s?” Tony received a look from Bruce, the one Pepper was so fond of giving him, that usually translated as ‘you are the stupidest smart person ever’. “Oh!” He realised, grin spreading across his face. “The baby? Hey,” he said to Loki, grabbing the God’s hands between his own. “You’re pregnant!”

“I know,” Loki said simply. “You did not believe me?”

“I think it’s more a seeing is believing thing, or hearing in this case,” Bruce told Loki, smiling. He turned back to Tony then, “an ultrasound would let you see the developing foetus, but I think it’s a little early for that. I’m going to take some blood, check his blood pressure, you know. Any family history I should know about Tony? I’d recommend you get him some vitamins though, just in case, they do some just for pregnant women. Honestly, Tony, apart from all of that I wouldn’t know what else to do. The heartbeat sounds fine, steady. It’s still beating which is good.”

“Nope, my parents were healthy, if you ignore the fiery car crash death. No illnesses that I know of, no allergies, deformities. I’m alright. Loki’s adopted though, so…” He trailed off awkwardly. Loki’s face was blank when both men turned to look at him. He offered a shrug, but nothing else, and Tony let it pass because he could guess that Loki wasn’t entirely comfortable with adoption talk. Considering he attempted to subjugate the Earth to prove he was as good as Odin’s _real_ son, it was probably a good conversation to continue to avoid. 

“So,” Bruce murmured, giving a low cough. “Your punishment?” 

It was something to fill the silence as Bruce pulled out a syringe and affixed the needle. Loki’s arm was curled at his side again, but Tony tapped it twice until Loki held it out for Bruce. He didn’t respond to Bruce’s question, unsure what to say because surely Tony wouldn’t have told him what had happened to Loki, would he? It was private, between them only and between all of Asgard too admittedly, but Tony was supposed to be different to them. Tony was supposed to protect him. 

Tony nudged his shoulder when Bruce wasn’t looking. “Yes,” Loki said at last, voice soft. 

“He’s gotta help with the re-building, stuff like that. Not sure how that’s safe though, you know, being pregnant, so I thought since they gave him to me I could re-jig his, uh, prison duties?” Bruce gave him a dirty look, scowling. “No. What? No! Dirty minded man, you. I meant since he still has his magic he could help us find some way of defending against Doom’s? What do you think? Think Fury will go for it?”

“Director Fury doesn’t know?” 

“Well, they sort of dumped Loki on my doorstep and didn’t come in for tea. I got the jist of it out of them before they left, but Loki filled me in on his Asgardian-time punishment-” At Bruce’s enquiring look, Tony squeezed Loki’s shoulder and added, “-which is private and personal and I’d really rather not if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Bruce was quick to agree, having wanted to keep some of his more personal secrets secret as well if he’d been given a choice about it. “It seems reasonable. Did they say how long he’d be here?”

“I figured it would be a permanent thing, you know? They never mentioned it, but if they’ve already punished him there I figure we’re stuck with him.” He squeezed Loki’s shoulder again, so the God took no offence at the particular choice of words. Tony wanted him there, Tony had promised to protect him and invited him to remain and even put him to sleep in Tony’s own bedroom. It made sense to under-emphasise their relationship to Tony’s teammates, none of whom would be pleased to have him here, as to over-emphasise it would open Tony to criticisms of having been ‘compromised’. This way it only looked as if Tony were following Asgard’s orders, albeit taking pleasure in doing so. 

“You going to tell the others?” 

“I want to tell Pepper first. She deserves to know. But I wanted you to make sure Loki was alright, so, yeah. Don’t tell Pepper until I do? I’m going to call her in a few minutes and afterwards I’ll get the guys together for a team meeting. Help me break the news?” Bruce snorted in amusement, the scowl on his face letting Tony know he was not looking forward to that meeting, but he also didn’t say no so Tony clapped him on the shoulder in a half-one-armed hug as he shoved him (and all of his medical supplies) out of the door. 

“I should tell you,” Loki began once the door was closed, voice soft and unsure, “that you are my soul mate.” 

That hadn’t been what he’d been expecting to hear. Something like, thanks for lying, or are you breaking up with your girlfriend for me, but not that. “Huh?”

Loki laughed softly, enjoying the look of confusion on Tony’s face. His forehead had crinkled and his mouth was open, eyes wide, and he looked about five years younger as he tilted his head curiously towards Loki in a silent demand for an explanation. 

“I was made for you, and you for me. You felt it, as I did when we met.”

“I couldn’t keep my hands off of you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Tony admitted, taking a seat beside Loki on the bed. The God leant sideways so that he could rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“That is always the way. My mother met Odin similarly, a handshake that they could not bear to end that led to marriage then and there so they wouldn’t have to be separated for even a moment more. I was engaged once and she left me before the wedding and mother told me that she was not intended for me though I loved her, because I did not love her instantly. Love grew upon me, the more time I spent with her. I was not hers until the moment she told me she loved me back. But I was yours instantly, I loved you the moment we touched; I was born to love you.”

Tony thought about it. How long it had taken him to care about Pepper as more than just his secretary and then personal assistant and then friend, and later lover. How long had it taken him to admit he loved her? How often did he tell her? He hadn’t hesitated to cheat on her with Loki, but in the time Loki had been gone since then Tony had thought of him more than he had thought of Pepper. When she was with him, it was fine, she was right there to remind him she existed, but when she was gone, working or sleeping or avoiding him, Tony’s thoughts were back to the kitchen counter where he had first fucked Loki or to the bed he shared with Pepper where Loki had once lay, glancing up at him coyly, naked and spent and utterly gorgeous before Tony had left to save the world. 

Was that love?

It was easier than what he had had with Pepper. Easier than any other emotion he had ever felt before, but was it magic or was Loki right that love just exploded into place when they met, having already existed there buried and waiting? He thought of the fierceness of his need to protect Loki and the baby, the thoughts from earlier of how to defend them of how to keep them there with him. Tony tried to imagine losing the baby, the hurt it would cause, the grief, and thinking of losing Loki caused the same ache in his chest. Then he closed his eyes, imagining himself holding the baby after it was born, of Loki in his bed tired and smiling and happy because they were a family, and he wanted that. That was his. Like Loki was his. And, yeah, maybe it was partly magic too, but Tony knew enough about ignoring his own feelings to know when those feelings were real. 

“I love you too.”

Loki grinned at him, turning his head into the kiss Tony pressed to his forehead. “Of course,” Loki replied, unsurprised, “you were born to love me too.”

Tony gave a snort of amusement, lips curling even as he turned to press them against the crown of Loki’s head. “Yeah well, that doesn’t mean you get to shirk your new prison duties, mister. I demand lots of magical,” Tony wiggled his fingers teasingly, “magicy stuff to study.”

_XXX_

They weren’t together anymore, but they hadn’t quite made that official yet. Like the way a wet plaster sometimes starts to peel off of your finger, and you can’t bring yourself to just rip it off, so you leave it there, hanging on by that one last millimetre of stickiness hoping futilely that you can make it last a little longer. Tony and Pepper were like that, half-stuck but falling apart, neither wanting to be the one that split them up even though they both knew it was Tony who ripped them apart; he was the one who cheated. 

It didn’t say much for their relationship that Tony was mentally comparing his girlfriend to a wet bandage. Or that he had cheated on her, but the whole ‘soulmates’ thing probably helped make her feel a bit better? Or at least Tony hoped so, because he’d said it now and couldn’t take it back. 

He reached out to wipe the tears off of her face but she flinched away from him, her face red and splotchy and her mouth drawn into a tight line. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes as she spoke, voice low and trembling, “You want to marry _him_?” The ‘but not me’ was left unsaid but Tony heard it loud and clear and he winced at the look Pepper was sending him now, because after three years together without so much a mention of the concept made it clear to her that Tony hadn’t been the marrying type. But maybe he just hadn’t wanted to marry her. 

“It’s not like that! Pepper, you know it’s not like that. But he’s pregnant and if he goes back there fuck knows what they’ll do to the baby if they know it’s mine! His husband raped him to try and impregnate him; you think they’re above aborting my kid and trying again?” Tony sighed loudly, one hand running down his face tiredly, “even if the kid wasn’t mine, even if I hated him, I wouldn’t send him back to that.”

She stared at him, unseeing. She looked right through him, as if he wasn’t there, or as if he wasn’t worth seeing, as she took deep, slow breathes. Tony kept his eyes on her hairline, afraid to meet her eyes. 

“What would you like me to do, Mr Stark?” When she spoke again her voice was calmer, louder but her lips were still trembling. Pepper had stopped crying though, hands squeezing her handbag in front of her chest like a shield as Tony stepped towards her again. “I can’t-” She told him frantically, halting him in his tracks. “You can have your marriage and your baby and I’ll get you a legal birth certificate, I’ll pay someone enough money siphoned from a Stark Industries account to make Loki a legal citizen of Earth, I’ll use your money, my money, whatever you want, but I can’t be your friend right now. I can’t be happy for you. Please don’t ask me to be?” 

Tony cleared his throat awkwardly, tucking his hands in his pockets so Pepper couldn’t see them shaking. “That seems perfectly fair, Ms Potts. Once you’ve taken care of those arrangements, email me and I’ll let you know of anything else I need.”

She bowed her head, red haired fringe flopping into her eyes and making her blink. Tony thought she might have been crying again but he couldn’t be sure because she didn’t look up at him again as she said, “good day, Mr Stark,” or as she left. His chest ached as he watched her leave, regret burning like acid in the pit of his stomach and the back of his throat until Tony thought he might choke on the feeling, but he told himself she’d forgive him, because she was Pepper and she always forgave him. She had to forgive him. She was his Pepper Potts and he needed her to forgive him, but this time Tony wasn’t sure she would. 

_XXX_

Loki’s passport and birth certificate arrived by registered mail a week later and Tony wondered as he checked them over how much of his money Pepper had spent to get them sorted out so quickly. So far he had been able to keep Loki successfully hidden from the other Avengers, bar Bruce. Bruce came over every other day to check the God’s blood pressure and double check that the foetus’s heart was still beating (because Tony didn’t trust Loki’s ‘I know the child is fine, I just know’ to be an accurate medical prognosis). 

“Loki Loptr?” The man in question asked, having pulled the passport out of Tony’s hands to look over it himself. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted to keep using Odinson considering he’s the reason bad shit happens to you,” Tony said with a shrug, keeping things simple. “It was one of the names they referred to you as in the Edda, so technically your name is Loki Loki.”

“You take amusement at my expense,” the God drawled, casting Tony a narrow-eyed glance. 

“Always, babe.” He winked, enjoying the flush that spread across Loki’s face at the action. 

They’d shared the same bed for a week but so far nothing more than Tony spooning him had happened. The occasional time Tony would rub his stomach softly then stop quickly when Loki met his gaze as if guilty of an offence. He’d been kissed on the forehead plenty of times too, but nowhere else and it was starting to become a nagging concern of his that Tony no longer desired him. 

Had pregnancy made him undesirable? Tyr had not touched his wife while she was pregnant, Loki recalled, but he had also believed the rumours that Loki had fathered that child which was probably what caused the aversion. But Balder hadn’t been able to stay away from his wife for both of her pregnancies, bathing with her in the public baths and clinging to her in hallways and seating her on his lap in the dining hall so he could always keep one hand pressed to his growing sons. Maybe Tony was more like Volstagg, Loki thought, who had been so afraid of damaging his unborn daughter he had kept his meaty fists off of his wife even before they had confirmed she was pregnant. 

He was usually much more subtle, Loki the sly one they had called him once until ‘liar’ became the more popular nickname for him upon Asgard. He was tricky and underhanded and never blunt. Except now was the time to be, because Tony wasn’t taking any of his hints. How the man couldn’t see that Loki going to bed fully clothed and waking up completely naked and sprawled across him was an invitation, Loki didn’t know, but it was an invitation Tony had continuously refused to accept. And Loki wanted to know why. 

He darted forward, hands on Tony’s shoulders to hold him still as he pressed his mouth to Tony’s own. It was just a touch of lips, soft, careful, but as wonderful as Loki remembered it to be, sparks dancing under his skin from the point of impact outwards until his entire being was alight. The warmth faded as Tony pulled away, hands raised to hold Loki at arm’s length. 

“Don’t you want me anymore?” His voice was soft and unsure and it made Tony’s chest ache to hear it sound like that. “I know you said you loved me, but do you want me? I can take a new chambers if you’d rather keep another in your bed?” His tone made it clear that Loki didn’t want to do that, but he offered anyway because soulmates or not Tony still had needs, right? And maybe they did things differently on Midgard.

“No!” Tony sounded scandalised, which considering his past antics said something. “Why would you- do they do that on Asgard?” He didn’t wait for Loki to respond before he continued. “Of course I want you. You’re stunning and you’re pregnant,” Tony began. Loki flinched, expecting that to be his lover’s excuse, but instead Tony said, “and it’s killing me to keep my hands off of you, knowing you’re carrying my baby, knowing that I’ve claimed you and I can see it growing and fuck Loki, I want you so much.”

“Then why won’t you have me?” His cheeks were red, eyes lowered bashfully, because as beautiful as Tony thought he was Loki couldn’t quite bring himself to agree. Asgardians had always viewed him as different, not as attractive as Thor or Fandral or countless others who had wooed women away from Loki for spite. Sigyn didn’t count for she was Vanir and their men looked mostly like Loki did, thin and tall and dark haired. But as unbelievable as it sounded to his ears, Loki couldn’t help the bubble of arousal the words stirred in his gut, the way his groin tightened in anticipation, how his heart beat faster, face flushing. 

“Hey,” Tony whispered, as he reached out to clasp both of Loki’s hands between his own. “I don’t really know how to say this, I’m not good with feelings or talking about them and I don’t know how you guys do it up there, other than badly I guess, because a lot of what I’ve heard is pretty messed up. But, well, after what happened in Asgard, are you sure you want to do that? Have sex, I mean?” 

Loki’s eyes widened. That had never crossed his mind, that Tony might have been worried about Loki’s discomfort or willingness, his fear of what Thor had done to him. He wasn’t though, because Tony had already promised not to hurt him and he hadn’t the last time they lay together and Tony would stop if Loki asked or if he cried because he had been horrified that Thor hadn’t and his disgust had been genuine and terrible to witness. Thor would be truly ashamed should Tony look upon him like that, but Loki had smiled, because that anger was on his behalf, the protectiveness, the care. That was all for him. Tony would not hurt him, Tony would never hurt him, and accidents would be forgiven immediately, his trust in the mortal unparalleled. 

“Only you,” Loki told him, softly. He leant forward to brush their lips together, twisting his hands in Tony’s hold so that he could squeeze the smaller hands between his own instead. “Always with you.” 

His clothes were vanished with a wave of his hand, Loki too impatient to undress normally, wary of giving Tony too much time to think this over. He wanted what he wanted, and by the norns he would get what he wanted. Tony was his, was willing, and Loki was not afraid of him or of sex as long as it was with him, and if Tony would not take him then Loki would take what was his instead. His hands were on Tony’s shoulders, pushing him backwards, and the mortal had no chance against the God. He found himself pressed up against the bar that Loki had first found himself fucked over. Tony chuckled, hands moving to unbutton his shirt, pushing it down his arms until it got tangled, Loki using it to hold Tony in place. The pants disappeared as Loki’s mouth found Tony’s cock, wet and warm as it sucked in his length, tongue flicking at the underside even as Loki sought to swallow it all. 

Tony moaned above him, slumping so he was leaning against the bar, the metal supporting his weight, and his hands fisted behind his back trying to free themselves from his shirt so he could grab Loki’s hair and hold him there. His hips rocked and Loki relaxed his jaw, allowing Tony to leisurely fuck his mouth, eyes wide as he looked up from beneath his fringe to watch the expressions that crossed Tony’s face. Pleasure, awe, devotion; to name but a few. Brown eyes wide and bright, lips flushed from biting them and Loki smiled around the cock in his mouth, lips stretching wider as he swallowed around the head of Tony’s penis, enjoying Stark coming undone before him. 

The man gasped, shouting at the sensation, hands finally free and he fisted one in Loki’s hair, pulling the God off of him. “Not so soon, babe. I want to come inside of you.” The mortal growled, using Loki’s hair to pull the God to his feet. 

It didn’t particularly hurt, so Loki allowed it and let himself enjoy the flutter in his belly at Tony’s manhandling. Tony took note of the full body shudder Loki gave as he pulled him over the bar, shoved onto his back and legs pulled apart. The God liked it a little rough apparently, but Tony would start him off slow, because despite Loki’s words to the contrary there must be some wariness still left in him. No one got over trauma that quickly, though, not to be crude, but maybe the cure in this case was to get under it? 

Tony made quick work of preparing Loki, especially after the Asgardian coated his fingers in magic lube for him. It wasn’t until Tony crawled onto the bar table above Loki that the God reacted negatively, cringing down into the metal to get away from Tony. 

His husband must have pinned him, Tony thought with a scowl. He pulled back, saying nothing because Loki had already turned his face away in shame. Instead, he lay on his own back beside the God, hands prodding at Loki’s waist to encourage him to climb on top. “How about you take charge this time,” Tony offered with a smirk and a wink, helping Loki seat himself on his cock. 

The God sank down easily, loose and wet and unresisting, his head thrown back at the wonderful feeling of fullness, the stretch and burn of Tony’s dick inside of him and the way the man panted underneath him, muttering, “so tight” under his breath as they bottomed out. Loki glanced around with wide eyes, at Tony’s face, his chest, his stomach where Loki had placed his hands to stop himself sagging forward from the pleasure as Tony rotated his hips beneath him. He looked over his shoulder, at Tony’s legs, stretched out behind him, and then lifting up so his feet where flat on the counter and he thrust upwards as Loki continued to sit there, almost lifting Loki right off of him except there were hands on his hips, pinning him down but not _trapping_ him, holding him in place as Tony fucked him, left him free to grind down and rock up and meet each thrust without feeling the crushing terror that came with being trapped on his back, crushed to Thor’s chest, unable to move, unable to breathe. 

Here, now, there was only Tony’s cock inside of him, the fullness he felt, the way it brushed against his prostate and made sparks flash behind his eyes when he allowed them to flutter shut, the fireworks that burst inside of his head every time Tony touched his cock, bobbing needy and leaking between them. Tony’s hands on his waist, their touch burnt into his sensory memory, their outline traced into his skin with sweat and bruises. Fingers occasionally shifting to pull on his cock, long steady strokes that brought Loki hurtling towards the edge and then a curl of fingers tight around the base of his cock like a dam for his pleasure. The pale, full mouth that strained upwards now and again to reach Loki’s, who dipped his head to meet the kiss and then threw it back again in pleasure as his prostate was abused mercilessly. The noises that escaped him were sinful and the groans he wrung from Tony made him feel like a God more than anything else he had ever done did. 

He was powerful, important and wonderful as Tony writhed beneath him, breath harsh and heavy and chest heaving, hands digging into Loki’s flesh to stave off his own release as hips bucked and rolled to drive Loki mad. He was beautiful as Tony sat up to press kisses against Loki’s throat and face. He was loved, as one hand came to rub circles against his rounded belly, the other tugging on his cock, twisting around the head and dipping down to stroke his balls before sliding back up until Loki came, a cry escaping him, Tony’s name a shriek that couldn’t be contained as white stained the mortal’s fingers and stomach. 

He was wanted, Loki thought with a satisfied smile, as Tony, breathing wildly, asked him to marry him. 

_XXX_

The wedding was a small affair. 

Tiny, in comparison to the spectacle Asgard had made of Loki’s punishment, inviting the entire realm to share in his suffering. Bruce came, as Loki’s witness, having decided that in a medical capacity Bruce was more useful to Loki than to Tony right now and Loki needed someone to talk to too. Rhodey was Tony’s best man, and Pepper stood at the back of the room with her arms crossed, unable to say no when Tony asked her to be his witness. She was planning to sign the documents and then leave, but she also ended up encouraging Steve to go through with officiating the ceremony. 

Apparently he had done one of those day courses (the kind you could do online now) and they didn’t expire until you died apparently, and he had been sworn to secrecy so Tony trusted him more than he would have trusted an ordinary judge or priest or whoever Pepper would have found. He had no idea why Steve would have qualified as a minister, not having much need for it during the war, but he supposed it might have been from before then, back when he was the poster boy for justice rather than actually being of some use to the war effort, kissing babies and officiating weddings and smiling with politicians for photographs. But here he was again; smiling for the camera, as Dummy wheeled around the room, recording everything he could (including a full ten minutes of a plant swaying in front of an open window, the stupid bot). 

“I know pronounce you married,” Steve said at last. He had tried very hard to stay angry with Tony, having rushed over in his Captain America outfit when Jarvis had called to inform him of an emergency at the Tower only to find Loki waiting for him in a three-piece suit. But the longer the ceremony went on for, the more familiar the words became to Steve who remembered doing this years ago for the publicity, photos for the newspaper but the smiles of the couple genuine and worth it all. The more Steve spoke, the more he started to smile until eventually he was outright grinning, even clapping and cheering along with Rhodey when Tony kissed the ‘bride’. 

“I’m not happy you didn’t tell us about this sooner, but I guess if Asgard made you take him in,” Steve scolded, folding his arms over his chest as Tony cut a slice of cake for him. “Thanks,” he said, taking it with one hand. “Congratulations,” he offered, holding his other hand out for a shake. 

Tony would never be his biggest fan, and mostly that stemmed from _being_ his biggest fan as a child and living with the knowledge as he grew that he would always be second fiddle to Howard Stark’s memory. But he took the hand and shook it, took the congratulations in the vein it was intended and thanked the man for his support. “So, you’ll be there when I tell Clint and Natasha, right?” He looked at Steve with wide-eyes and a pout and the solider found himself agreeing. 

Pepper had ducked out with the documents the moment they were all signed and dated, having offered to file them with the registrar on her way home. She was his friend, she would always be Tony’s friend, but seeing him happy so soon without her hurt. She wasn’t spiteful enough to ruin this for him though, not even while wishing it was her marrying him today. 

Rhodey, having already offered his congratulations along with a confused request for an explanation that went along the lines of, “what the fucking fuck, man? Actually I don’t want to know!”, went on to give Loki the shovel talk. Bruce watched them, wincing a little at Loki’s wide-eyed and open-mouth non-responses. In the end, he went to rescue the God, nudging Rhodes towards Steve, figuring they had enough in common to keep them talking for a while. He brought Loki towards Tony, smiling at the matching rings on their fingers, Thor’s ring having long ago been discarded. 

“Where did you get those?” Bruce asked curiously. 

“They were my mom’s.” The rings were white gold with a line of gold cutting through the middle all of the way around. Loki’s was a little thinner, having originally been meant for female hands, Pepper had brought it to be stretched, its width used to compensate the circumference. They had been engraved though, Bruce noticed, with runes, added obviously at the same time as the re-sizing. “They were mother’s parents’ rings, but when mom got married, Howard wanted his own, uh, tasteful choice.” The elder Starks’ rings had been garish things, enough pictures of the couple existing still for Loki to have been able to search online for them, immediately likening it to Thor’s ring for him, with Mjölnir engraved upon it, too many gems, too many colours. Too much. And too little affection to balance it out. 

“Oh. Well, they’re nice.” Bruce wanted to ask about the rune, but from the way Loki’s finger kept tracing over it, cradling Tony’s hand in his own to play with his wedding ring, Bruce figured it must mean something personal or romantic (and wasn’t that a strange thought, Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, romantic). “I thought Loki was already married though?”

“I checked and had Jarvis double check. There’s no law that say I can’t marry an alien who is already married. Bigamy only counts with humans. Like that guy in India who married the dog, he got married to someone else after. Didn’t have to divorce his dog.”

“But…” Bruce started to say, because actually he didn’t think that man got married afterwards at all. 

But Tony butted in with a laugh, “don’t be xenophobic, Banner.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes, for the fiftieth time that day, and let it go. “You have it sorted?” 

“All of the forms are filled out; I’ve crossed my t’s and dotted my I’s. Pepper has notified everyone who needs to be notified of the baby, apart from SHIELD, but yeah Norway knows a baby is coming, the registrar of births here knows. They have the marriage certificate by now. I’ve filed Loki’s papers and passport, applied for citizenship here as my spouse. Let Asgard try and take him,” Tony dared, squeezing Loki’s hand in his own. 

Bruce wanted to ask, he really did because Tony was going to a lot of effort to protect a man that Asgard had apparently given away from taking him back. But he was a little afraid of what Tony’s answer might be because he was starting to get suspicious about how willing Asgard had actually been about parting with Loki, but especially with the baby, because what if they thought it was fully Asgardian? What if they tried to take the child back if it wasn’t Tony’s? He knew Tony wouldn’t let them, that it wouldn’t matter to Tony if Loki ha lied about the parentage. Three weeks in and Tony had already half decorated a room for the baby to use, nursery done up in yellow and lilac, with hanging mobiles and a cot that Tony had taken apart and tried to put back together in his own design to no success. Tony was his friend, though, his closest friend, his first friend since his accident and it was sort of pathetic how much that meant to Bruce, but that was life he supposed. Different things mattered to different people, and Bruce had always hated being alone, like Tony hated it when people took his things. He would fight a war for that child, and Bruce was a little afraid it might come to that, so another week later when Tony finally called the Avengers to assemble so he could introduce Loki to them, Bruce stood at his side shoulder to shoulder and nodded gratefully when Steve came to stand in line with them. 

It went as Tony had thought it would go. He’d kept Loki in the bedroom to be on the safe side with Bruce standing the closest to the exit of the common room. Clint had jumped off of the couch like someone had lit a fire under his ass, snarling and cursing and threatening to rip Loki’s fucking head off. Natasha had glanced coldly between Tony and the door. Her eyes flicked between Steve and Bruce, brows furrowed as she tried to consider whether they were all brain washed or if she should shut Clint up and listen. In the end she dragged Clint back down onto the couch beside her and twitched one eyebrow in a ‘well?’ gesture. 

So Tony told her what he had told Bruce and Steve, leaving out all of the parts Pepper knew because he trusted Pepper and she knew him, knew what he was capable of in a way the Avengers didn’t. Tony was selfish and covetous, and he wanted Loki so it didn’t matter that he had hurt people, destroyed lives, or was meant to be a sex slave in Asgard right now. He was Tony’s soulmate and they were having a family together and maybe things would be different if Loki had managed to mind control him, or hadn’t slept with him during the invasion, or if Tony hadn’t felt the pull towards the other that made him believe Loki’s talk of chosen Ones and bonds and souls being born to love each other. He would have scoffed at it all before, but now he could feel it, sense it, practically hear Loki’s heart beating in time with his own from two rooms apart. It was as terrifying as it was awe inspiring and Tony wanted to spend the rest of his life discovering new things about his husband. If he was going to fight Asgard for the right to keep Loki, Tony was sure as hell willing to fight the Avengers for him too. 

Natasha at least seemed to be seriously thinking the situation over. Clint on the other hand used the split second every one’s attention was on Natasha to bolt for the door. Bruce didn’t quite manage to grab him in time and had to spend the next five minutes trying to calm himself down, sprawled across the floor where he’d been shoved. Steve and Natasha waited until Tony had ran from the room, chasing after Clint and shouting at Jarvis to lock the bedroom door, before they followed him. 

“What do you think?” Steve asked. Of all of them, he was the least suspicious. He was also the only one who was genuinely pleased about the concept of soulmates; the others either wary, sceptical or in Pepper’s case jealous, but Steve had been happy for Tony and for Loki because maybe there was a soulmate out there for him too? 

“He’s lying about something, but I’m not sure what. There are too many variables.” 

Clint had managed to get into the room before Jarvis had locked the door but Tony, unfortunately, was locked out. “Open it up, J!” He ordered, pounding angrily on it with one fist. Inside he could hear Clint’s raised voice and he called a half a ‘if you touch him, I’ll’ threat out to the other man until the door swung open and interrupted him. 

Loki was wearing little more than one of Tony’s old band t-shirt, too sizes too small across his stomach and too short to boot. Fortunately he had boxer shorts on too, but he was bare foot and pregnant and not as cowed as Tony feared he might be. Instead, it was Clint who was cowering back, bumping into Tony as he tried to escape back out of the door. 

“Back the fuck off!” Clint shouted, repeating what he had been shouting earlier, as Loki’s hands glowed green with magic, fingers curling in anger. His teeth were showing, white and straight and clenched in a snarl and Tony sighed loudly. “Do something, Stark!” 

“Loki, he’s not going to hurt the baby, calm down please.” 

Just like Tony had thought, Clint had stopped listening the moment Loki’s name was mentioned. Now his head snapped around and he mouthed, “baby?” at the engineer, head twisting back just as fast to glance at Loki’s rounded stomach, obvious only because of the tightness of his shirt. At just over four months pregnant, there wasn’t much to see, but Loki was skinny and his clothes were too small, and the roundness there was too hard to be fat, too low to be bloating. “What?” 

Clint had backed up further, but instead of fearing for his life he now looked at Loki with wide-eyes, worried about how contagious the other man might be. “You’re not going to catch it,” Tony snarked, moving out of the doorway to step closer to Loki. If Clint left through it, all the better. But he didn’t. Instead he stood and stared, blinking now and again, and Tony couldn’t help but remember the first press conference they attended all together, and the woman who had thrust a child in Clint’s face as they walked down the stairs off of the platform and how he had startled so badly he made the child cry. “Clint has a fear of kids. Loki, try not to get him pregnant.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at Tony, and then snorted. Playing along he responded, “I’ll try, but if he keeps looking at me like that, dear, it’s going to be very hard to control myself.” He licked his lips, taking sadistic pleasure in the way Clint’s eyes darted to his stomach again before he turned and darted out of the room. 

“Well that went well.” 

It was a bit of an overstatement, or an understatement depending on your point of view, but no one had gotten shot and no bones were broken, and Loki had been wonderful, a lioness defending its young (not that Tony was going to call him that to his face). It was a weight off of his shoulders to realise, to actually see, that no matter what Asgard had done to him they hadn’t broken him, that Loki was still capable of fighting back and dishing it out twice as hard as he received it. If, for any reason, Tony was there to protect him, it was good to know that Loki was willing to protect himself. 

When the Hulk peered through the doorway, hands carefully holding onto the frame so he could duck down enough to see them both, asking, “god-baby safe?”, Tony knew that despite their differences (and with or without Clint and Natasha) the Avengers had their backs too. 

_XXX_

Tony hummed the song to himself, snorting at the turn his thoughts were taking even as they occurred to him. What were the lyrics again? _That’s life_ ; he hummed again: _riding high in April, shot down in May_. That pretty much covered it, except there were several more months between his ‘April’ and ‘May’ before his life went to shit. 

He should have seen it coming though. After the last of the Avengers had come around, Natasha and Steve even volunteering to inform Fury for him so Tony could barricade himself in his lab and avoid the angry video calls and one-eyed glares, Tony had let himself fall back into the swing of things. Work was going well and Stark Industries was making good money. Loki’s pregnancy was going swimmingly, no morning sickness or strange cravings, and the child was growing at a healthy, steady rate, until he was starting to make it hard for Loki to walk. 

Pepper and he were back on good terms, not great, not yet, but they met for coffee once a week and Tony signed all of the paperwork she brought him without complaint and he paid for her coffee too. Sometimes she brought him muffins from the place near Central Park he liked, but never let him eat them in the coffee shop because it was ‘rude’ apparently. They were actually on their way back from personally dropping off Tony’s revised Last Will & Testament at his personal lawyer’s office. Pepper was still CEO and would be until she died or retired, but Tony’s child would inherit if the child wanted to, or like Tony he could appoint their own CEO (anything the kid wanted so long as the board members didn’t get their grubby paws on Tony’s legacy), and the majority of his wealth would go to Loki and the baby should anything untimely happen to him, along with the Avengers, and his friends, the remainder having already been set aside for various posthumous projects and charities. Tony had wanted to wait until the last possible minute to change his Will, knowing well how some judges viewed babies as less than human (and then of course there was the other end of the spectrum). With Loki due in a couple of weeks anyone who, if they found out, had a problem with a foetus inheriting Tony’s fortune would be met with a photograph of their newborn son and an unspoken ‘fuck you’. 

Attacks were rather scarce as of late, since months ago when Loki had joined up with the Avengers and decimated a good part of Brooklyn in a rage, along with Justin Hammer’s face, because Hammertech’s last attempt at copying the Iron Man suit had gone rouge and smashed up the botanical garden Loki was fond of. So when Tony and Loki went on a date there and found the ‘closed for repair’ sign hanging up outside, Loki decided then and there that he needed to clean up _his_ State because apparently the villains weren’t taking New York’s heroes seriously enough. It was a beautiful addition to the team, especially after the mood swings started. Until his sixth month (when Bruce and Tony unanimously grounded him), Loki was set on the villains first and those they didn’t flee in repentant terror were met with the other Avengers, and a lecture from Steve about attacking pregnant people and respecting mothers. 

But because everything had been going so well, life had to come along and shit all over them. In this case, the proverbial shit was Thor. Or, rather, the thunderstorm that had burst into existence in the New York skies, rumbling ominously and crackling with electricity. Pepper ducked into a subway entrance, pulling her winter-coat tight around her throat to keep the rain out. Tony shivered, wearing a suit jacket and a scarf instead of a real coat. It had been warm enough for early January when Tony had left the Tower, but the freak storm had the temperature plummeting down to the twenties. Rain pelted the ground, knocking leaves off of the evergreens’ branches and stripping bark from the remaining trees. Tony’s eyes widened at the sight of it, the force the rain came down with, and felt sorry for anyone caught out in it that hadn’t found a handy subway to hide in the mouth of. 

“That is not natural,” Pepper gasped, a hand flying over her mouth as the wind turned over a Nissan on the other side of the street. 

“Think Thor found Loki?” Tony glanced at his friend, mentally calculating how fast he would be able to get back home, and how much damage Thor could do to his husband in that time. 

“More like Loki told him he wasn’t the father,” Pepper sighed. It had taken five months but Loki had finally worked up the nerve to tell Tony who his Asgardian husband was, no longer fearing that he would side with Thor over him. Instead, Tony had punched the wall, far away from his head however so there was no fear, no shriek of surprise on Loki’s part. Instead, Loki had run into his arms, hugging him fiercely, his stomach at eight months making that rather difficult but Loki tried. Tony had held him back just as tightly, mumbling into his hair, promising to kick Thor’s ass, but Loki had laughed, thanked him, and reminded him that Thor was supposed to be the father of his child, that they had met after Loki escaped Asgard and could hold no fault with Thor for his behaviour. “Come on,” Pepper added, “let’s make a break for it.”

Snow had started to fall. The rain turned into pellets of ice, sharp and dangerous as it shot through the sky, hitting objects with the force of a bullet from a gun. Pepper cried out several times as they ran the remaining block between the subway and the Tower. Tony hissed, ducking instinctively as lightning struck a tree just ahead of them, causing them both to stumble awkwardly to a stop. They glanced warily at the tree, shuffling around it hesitantly before they resumed their run. 

“Stay,” Tony demanded as he pulled Pepper into the elevator behind him. “It’s dangerous outside and it’s not safe to make Happy drive you around in this weather. I’m going to need the support anyway.”

“Do you remember the plan?” She made sure to meet his eyes, hands on his face to hold him still. 

His eyes were solemn as they met hers, his face calm and straight. “I remember. Loki obviously remembered too, judging by the temper tantrum storm raging outside.”

“We’ll make this work, Tony.” Pepper assured him as the lift doors opened and they stepped into the common room on Tony’s floor. There was shattered glass on the ground, a broken bottle of whiskey was smashed against one wall, its contents dripping down and pooling on the floor. Two of the chairs had been over turned, thrown absently at anything else that was capable of being broken. And Loki was in the kitchen, backed up against the fridge with his hands on his stomach, breathing heavily through his mouth as Thor hovered awkwardly in front of him, caught between rage and fear as Loki went from screaming at him to screaming about it being too early. 

“Ms Potts,” Tony mumbled, pushing past the redhead to run to Loki’s side. “You’re going to have to call Happy, anyway, I think.” He looked up and met with terrified green eyes, uncaring that Thor was looming over him now as he cradled Loki to his side. “Loki’s water just broke.” 

_XXX_

_His fist hit the wall with enough force that Tony felt his knuckles crack even as the plaster around it did too. Loki stood beside him, his hands on his belly and a frown on his face, but he didn’t cower and he didn’t cringe and there was no shriek of terror as Tony lashed out at inanimate objects. The mortal took a deep breath, massaging his sore hand with his other one, fingers pressing hard at his knuckles to check if they were broken. He was going to have some wonderful bruising this time tomorrow, he thought angrily._

_Loki ran at him suddenly. Well, actually, he waddled really fast, but the last time Tony had said that he got slapped. So he let Loki run at him and the moment the God was close enough, Tony enfolded him in his arms, mindful of his stomach which had long ago started getting in the way of bear-hugs. His hands were gentle against the back of Loki’s head, fingers carding through hair until he had calmed himself down enough to speak again._

_“Thor did that to you?” Tony asked, not sure if he could bring himself to believe what he was hearing. He believed Loki, no question, but Thor was his one-time battle buddy, he seemed like such a nice guy and Jane Foster when she spoke about him said he was a gentleman and more. That he could be a rapist too was something that would never have crossed Tony’s mind._

_“I was drugged. Thor is smarter than he lets on at times, but he was still never the brightest star in the skies. He thought, and I believe him, that I had just given up fighting. It wasn’t until we were… until he was, you know, that he realised and if he stopped then I would have been punished for it, not him. If he had realised during the ceremony, perhaps he could have arranged it so that there were no witnesses and he mightn’t have touched me at all.”_

_Tony snorted; an unpleasant sound that matched the unhappy scowl on his face. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” he agreed softly. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to give him a piece of my mind next time he’s in town.”_

_Loki’s eyes widened at the thought. Tony liked to think it was because Loki was worried Thor would get beaten into paste, but that was really unlikely, even with the Iron Man suit. More likely, Loki was worried that Thor would come to take him back to Asgard, but that was really unlikely too, because Tony wasn’t going to let that happen._

_“When he comes,” Loki said. There was no ‘if’ because they both knew that eventually Thor would come back to Earth. “He must be let believe the child is his.” Tony’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. Here he was taking care of Loki and their baby, all of his friends knew the baby was his, but Loki waited five months and_ then _tells him they were supposed to be keeping it quiet? “I cannot allow him to question the paternity of the child. Would you, do you mind if I inform him that our relationship came about after I escaped from Asgard?”_

_“Why are we letting Thor think he’s the baby daddy? Indulge me, I’m confused.” His arms were around Loki now, holding him tight again, bodies pressed as close as possible with their unborn eight-month-old foetus between them._

_Loki rolled his eyes at him, thoroughly distracted from his worrying about Thor by his irritation with Tony’s sometimes habit of only half listening. “If they know the child is not Thor’s they will take me back to Asgard and I’ll have to do it again and I don’t want him to touch me again. But I don’t want to go to…” He trailed off, unable to voice his real brother’s name, the one who had_ asked _to have him. “Jötunheimr and I can’t, Tony, I can’t!”_

_“You won’t. You aren’t going anywhere.”_

_“But if the child isn’t Thor’s!” He protested, sluggishly pulling his way free of Tony’s embrace. “I won’t have completed my punishment. Even as it is, Thor will want to bring the child to Asgard with him and I won’t be separated from my son.”_

_“But Thor can be reasoned with,” Tony reminded him gently. “And Thor won’t take the child from his real parents.” Loki just glanced at him, narrow eyed and peevish. It was his usual expression when Tony started talking over him, but Tony brushed it off because usually Tony’s ideas were just better and Loki never complained about them afterwards anyway. “What, you think I’ve spent five months sitting around on my ass doing nothing? Loki, my contingency plans have back-up plans. I promised I’d take care of you both, remember?”_

_“I don’t understand,” Loki groused, still looking annoyed, but at least his arms had unfolded and his eyes weren’t glaring daggers anymore._

_“Pepper and I were taking care of it.” Loki tensed at the mention of her name, never having quite managed to get along with the woman he had stolen Tony away from. “I’ve talked to the others and they’ve agreed to back us up if Thor starts a fight. I’ve changed my Will, I put you and the baby in there, going to have to change it again after he has a name though. I gave you your passport and your birth certificate and we got married and Pepper filed the paperwork and it’s all perfectly legal. She even got you a green card, so you can work here after you have the baby if you want. Or you could work for me,” Tony added, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making Loki chuckle. “Taking you away by force is kidnapping, and taking the baby is kidnapping, and I promise you, whatever it takes, I will burn Asgard down if I have to to keep you here with me. As long as you want to be here with me, I mean, you don’t have to be-”_

_Loki pressed his mouth to Tony’s to shut him up. They pulled back smiling softly, and green eyes were wet with unshed tears as he whispered, “always.”_

_“I talked to SHIELD too,” Tony admitted. He pulled Loki by the hand towards the couch, helped him sit down and fluffed a few cushions for him too. He was getting very good at the whole waiting-hand-and-foot thing. “I figured for the same reason as Asgard, they couldn’t really do anything to you. You’re still a citizen of Norway, and diplomatic incidents aside, I really hate people taking my stuff. The others know, by the way, the real truth I mean. I made Pepper tell them though, because everything sounds more fun when Pepper tells you. And yeah you are really, really pregnant and that would look so bad if they arrested you right now and Jarvis would totally put those pictures all over the internet, and your army would probably riot.” Loki blinked twice, mouth half-open in confusion. “Yeah, you have an army. Most of them probably wouldn’t do much more than scream hysterically, in a happy way, if they saw you, so all the fighting will be up to us. But still, thought that counts.”_

_“Tony, not that I do not enjoy your rambling, but how is your SHIELD going to help us?”_

_“This is your punishment.” He took Loki’s hands between his own, idly fiddling with the wedding ring Loki wore, the one Tony had put on his finger himself. “When Thor comes calling, Fury is going to tell him that this is your punishment. You attacked Earth. You make it up to Earth. If Jötunheimr can be put on the back burner, then so can Asgard, because on a scale of damage to places, Midgard to Jötunheimr, Asgard doesn’t even make the cut. We humans don’t live that long, so the rest of the universe can get to the back of the line. You have to make reparations to anyone? It’ll be to me first.” He moved one hand to rub lightly at Loki’s stomach, smiling widely at the sudden kick of a little foot. “Cause I only just finished building that Tower, you know.”_

_“Yes, I know,” he said fondly, trying to sound put-upon. “You’ve only told me at least three thousand times.”_

_“Once for every year of your life?” Tony joked._

_“I am not that old!” He was fixed with another glare but Tony only laughed, kissed away the frown until Loki was kissing back, surging forward to grab hold of whatever part of Tony he could, hands and hair and shoulders, as their mouths moved together. A tongue swept across the front of his teeth, and Loki moaned, opening his mouth wider for Tony to come inside._

_“Everything is going to be ok,” Tony promised him when they pulled apart. His hands were soft against Loki’s cheeks, framing his face to make sure that Loki looked right at him, to see whether the God believed him._

_“They will not believe you. Even if Thor does, the rest of Asgard will think I am lying about the child to stay here. Mother drugged me because she knew I would have told people I lay with you, that I carried your child before the wedding, and she knew as I know that no one would believe me. They would have married me off anyway, raped me, and then when my belly started to grow they would have sent me to Jötunheimr for my betrayal of Thor would void the marriage. If Thor had chosen not to marry me, I would not have been sent to you anyway!”_

_“The thing is,” Tony said with a grin, as he switched on the TV, “if you tell a lie often enough, it becomes the truth.”_

_Fury was standing behind a podium on the television, with the rest of the Avengers behind him. “As you all know, Anthony Stark’s lover is pregnant. What you do not know, is that they have been married for five months and that their relationship, though kept secret, began before the invasion of New York.”_

_Loki’s participation in the invasion was a well-kept secret. Except among the conspiracy theorists that had gotten glimpses on camera phones of gold armour and green leather and pale features, loaded them onto the internet, and spawned a following of young women who thought the really hot guy with the helmet was just a misunderstood baby waiting for the right women. Hence, the army, with no name, because the name was the only thing the government had actually managed to cover up._

_“Loki is the brother of Thor, one of the Avengers. He is a shape shifter and capable of getting pregnant naturally, which, as you can imagine came as a rather large shock to Mr Stark.” Fury continued. Behind him, Clint shifted restlessly. He wasn’t quite over it yet, but he was uncomfortable being so angry with a pregnant person, especially since every time he saw Loki the God looked exhausted, but that sympathy, that pity, was what kept him angry, rather than actual memories of his ordeal. He didn’t want to forgive and forget, especially since everyone else seemed to have already done so. But sometimes he couldn’t help himself, and that annoyed him, so he scowled for the cameras, pissed off that they made him come here and say nice things about Loki. But he bit his tongue and he nodded at all the right places, and he didn’t get shot in the face like Fury threatened he would if Clint stepped a toe out of line. And Tony was his friend, even if he was a giant bag of dicks._

_“What?” Loki’s eyes didn’t leave the TV as Fury continued speaking, and even after when the channel switched to something else._

_“Asgard won’t believe you, but they will believe Thor. You want Thor to believe you? You start by convincing the media, if you convince the media, most everyone will believe it and those that don’t will still be talking about it. You have all of Earth backing you up in no time, and if Thor still won’t believe you, well, that many of his precious mortals can’t be wrong, right?”_

_“You are truly devious,” Loki praised softly._

_“I do try!” He grinned widely. Tony leant forward to kiss Loki softly again._

_A month later, Tony’s husband, and Tony’s baby, and Loki Stark were still all the media were talking about. People debated whether it was a publicity stunt on Yahoo forums, they reblogged carefully leaked pictures of the couple on Tumblr, and they wrote angry Facebook statuses about xenophobia or homophobia or equal rights for everybody. Steve spent a lot of his time at the café beneath the Tower and he had lost count of the people who had shyly asked him if it was true while he drank his morning coffee. Natasha had heard a couple of SHIELD agents gossiping about it in the staff room the last time she was on the Helicarrier. Pepper was bombarded with emails from shareholders and board members wondering what this meant for the future of Stark Industries. Tony’s private Twitter was suddenly full of photographs, of his wedding ring, of Loki’s, of Loki’s belly, Loki sleeping in the moonlight, Loki waking up first thing and smiling at the camera, Loki curled up in his arms while Tony took a selfie, Loki, Loki, Loki, and tweets about their first meeting in the street and how their hands had brushed, the first time they’d had sex, their first cuddle, how much they loved each other. All anyone saw in public when they saw Tony was the husband and father-to-be._

_Everything in his public life was now about Loki, it was all he wanted the world to see, and when Thor came to Midgard it would be all he’d see too._

_XXX_

“The spell,” Loki puffed, as Tony wheeled him through the hospital and Pepper held his hand, “wore off. I couldn’t keep it up any longer. It should have lasted another week, the baby shouldn’t come yet.”

“You must have gone into labour last night or this morning. You were complaining about pains, right?” Tony said from behind the wheelchair, still ignoring Thor who trailed at their heels in a daze. “Hey, it’s only a week. Babies have come along a lot sooner than that around here, and they’ve all been ship-shape. You’re both going to be fine, I promise.” 

They followed the nurse through the hospital, Tony having immediately commandeered the handles of the chair so that he could push but, “not too fast, Tony, oh never mind!” Pepper had come alongside him, asking all the right questions of the nurse and squeezing Loki’s hand when a contraction hit. 

“When did they start?” The nurse asked, completely nonplussed at Loki being a pregnant man. Though, from the way she kept glancing sideways at Tony, he could tell she was a fan, so she had obviously kept herself up to date on the latest and greatest news of Anthony Stark. Including his pregnant husband. 

“Early this morning. I thought nothing of them, they were so far apart,” Loki told them, pausing to pant harshly as pain spread through him. It was not as bad as being smashed around by the Hulk though, so he gritted his teeth for a moment before he continued to talk. He had magic to heal him before though, and now his magic was focused on keeping his child alive and strong as he detached from the placenta. “My magic failed me at, uh, oh, nine this morning.” With it, the magic that shielded Loki from Heimdallr would have vanished too, leaving him bared to the watcher’s sight. Pepper and Tony glanced at Thor: he had made it there in under an hour, in a rush to reclaim his wayward brother apparently. 

“Well, they are pretty close together now,” the nurse told him happily. She helped him climb up into the bed, pulling the blankets down out of the way. I’m going to check your dilation in a moment, so if everyone but the father can clear the room please?”

Thor stayed put, arms crossed defensively over his chest when Tony turned to stare at him and Loki hissed, “out!” at him. Fortunately, Pepper was more organized than any of them, and while Loki had been standing in a puddle of viscous fluids and Thor had been acted like a wounded puppy and Tony had rushed around grabbing things that probably wouldn’t be of any use, Pepper had asked Jarvis to alert the other Avengers. With timing that would make Pronoia proud, Goddess of foresight and all that, Steve dashed into the room and grabbed Thor by the arm. 

“Congratulations!” He called at Loki with a smile, as he had done every time they had crossed paths in the last six months. 

“You can congratulate him after the baby comes, Steve, thanks,” Tony said while waving his hand dismissively. Thor was dragged from the room, but only after Bruce glanced in, nodding at Thor in a silence ‘need some help’ that Steve shrugged at. Instead of actually letting the Hulk help, Thor allowed himself to be pulled out of the room, and Pepper followed him after a kiss to both of Tony’s cheeks and a tight smile for Loki. “That big blonde one isn’t allowed to be alone with Loki or the baby, you understand?” 

The nurse looked pretty flustered at this point but she nodded slowly, half concerned about Thor stealing the baby and half terrified of actually telling him he couldn’t. But she did her job with steady hands, gave Loki a gown and Tony some gloves and scrubs and little plastic slippers to go over his shoes. But as she pulled up the bottom of the gown, she stopped suddenly, and looked between the couple before asking, “Are you even going to dilate?”

“I am a shape shifter. I have a uterus and a vagina,” he reached down with his own hand, brushing the nurse’s out of the way. “And I am fully dilated. When should I push?” 

“How do you even?” Tony asked, gaping. 

“I looked at videos on Youtube,” Loki informed them both matter of factly. The nurse tried not to laugh, but Tony didn’t bother, throwing his head back with a chuckle that Loki scowled at. 

“That isn’t a trustworthy learning tool. Let the nurse do her job, yeah?” He nodded at the woman to continue; as Loki crossed his arms angrily above his bump and turned his nose up. When she announced that he was fully dilated he shot Tony a smug grin that had him rolling his eyes even as he leant down to kiss it away. 

“Well, let’s bring you in, shall we?” 

_XXX_

After that slightly traumatising event, (read: Tony was never doing that again, no thank you), when Loki was sleeping and their son was wrapped up in his little plastic cot sleeping too, Tony greeted his friends for the first time since they had arrived in the hospital. They were all sitting around in plastic chairs, or slouching against walls, and Bruce was crossed-legged on the floor breathing deeply. 

“How’s that zen coming, Master Splinter?” Tony asked, patting Bruce on the back as he walked passed to pull Pepper into a hug. “I have a son! How cool is that? I’m going to teach him to drive and make things and-”

“Break things,” Pepper interrupted. Tony didn’t argue, because it was true, but he did grin sheepishly before turning to the Avengers. They each of the men, bar Thor, gave him a pat on the back or a hug, congratulated him and asked to see the child. 

“Loki’s sleeping. Loki doesn’t want Ásfriðr out of the room without him so you know, gotta wait until Loki wakes up.”

“You named him already?” Natasha asked, as she pushed away from the wall to give him a hug of her own. 

“Yeah, well, I wanted something nice and not too hard to pronounce and Loki wanted something Asgardian, and Ásfriðr means beloved, so.” Tony gave an awkward smile as the others exclaimed over the name choice, turning hesitantly until he was facing Thor. 

“The father should name the child,” Thor told him angrily. He looked furious, face pinched tight and lips pressed into a thin line. His arms were crossed again, the muscles of his biceps bulging rather ominously. He kept his legs apart, stance stiff, and Tony took a step backwards just to be on the safe side, because Thor looked about ready to attack him at any minute. 

That didn’t stop Tony from running his mouth though. “He did,” he told Thor with a shrug. “I did,” he corrected, not liking the way Thor’s eyebrows drew together. 

“You are not the child’s father.”

“Uh yes I am,” Tony rolled his eyes as he spoke, looking for all the world like he really didn’t care about the magical hammer vibrating at Thor’s belt. “Haven’t you seen the news?”

Thor had seen the news. 

When Loki’s magic had dissipated and the shroud that hid him had fallen, Thor had demanded Heimdallr send him to Midgard as soon as possible. With the Tesseract back in Asgard they had managed to fix the Bifrost, and in between ending the civil wars that had broken out across some of the nine realms Thor travelled them searching for Loki. But he had never thought of looking on Midgard. Upon arriving on Midgard the first thing Thor had seen was the news. He had landed in New Mexico, walked the distance between the Bifrost site and the town he had met Jane in long ago, and his eyes had been drawn to the display of flashing televisions in the window of the town’s only electrical shop. 

There were eight of them in total in the window, each tuned to a different channel with their own price sticker in the bottom left corner. On each of the screens was an Avenger. One had Steve signing autographs in Central Park dated two days before, caught out on a run. Another had Natasha and Clint from the month before, a helicopter following behind the quinjet on one of their missions. Bruce was at a conference, speaking about the dangers of radiation therapy while his opponent tried to promote the idea. And then there was Tony Stark, and Tony Stark again, and Tony Stark with Loki, and a report about their wedding, and finally a recap about the upcoming birth of the Stark heir. Thor had watched, eyes flicking between the screens, eyebrows furrowing. In the end, he had entered the shop, demanded the television that spoke of the wedding and the baby have its volume increased, and had listened intently as thunder began to rumble outside. 

Minutes later, he was crashing in through the windows of Tony’s penthouse, shoving Loki up against a wall and demanding answers that he had yet to be given. “I have seen the news,” Thor said at last, arms folded across his chest. He looked angry and imposing, but Tony only shrugged at him again, not in the least concerned. 

“Look big guy, let me make this clear for you. Loki and I got married. Loki got pregnant, not necessarily in that order, and somewhere in the middle of these two amazing events you and your fucked up way of life tried to fuck up Loki’s life. That baby is mine. Loki is mine. Everyone on Earth knows it, your mom knows it.” He paused to take a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his nose. “Look, just admit it, you don’t want to be married to Loki any more than he wants to be married to you. I’ve sorted it out with Nick and the Security Council already, and all you have to do is accept that _this_ is Loki’s punishment now and explain that to Big Daddy.”

Tony could tell by the way Thor was looking at him that he didn’t believe a word that had come out of his mouth, so before he could overthink it, Tony spoke again. “Wouldn’t you rather be with Dr Foster? Heard you were pretty sweet on her.” Thor gave a hesitant nod, understanding the meaning if not the exact phrasing of the words. “Doubt she’s too happy about you getting married to someone else, right?”

“I have yet to tell her. The Bifrost was repaired only recently, and since then I have been trying to end the conflict that has plagued the nine realms since…” He clenched his jaw and glanced away, unwilling to speak about Loki’s fall from the Bifrost. “For some time now,” he said instead. “But yes, I do believe Jane will be rather incensed with me, but she will understand. I was trying to protect my brother!” 

“Really?” Tony drawled, eyes narrowed. Steve reached out to grab his shoulder, shaking him slightly until Tony forced himself to relax. Thor had done a shitty thing, but he had good intentions and anyway, the maternity ward was no place to start a fight about things they couldn’t change. When Loki was healed up and settled at home, Tony would point them in the direction of Latveria and give them his permission to duke it out till Thor admitted he was wrong (not a rapist, because Tony got the impression Thor didn’t even know what they word meant, so they’d be fighting till the sun imploded in that case, but admitting he was wrong and had hurt his brother was a start, then he’d get Jane to teach him about ‘consent’. His girlfriend, her job, in Tony’s opinion). “Well I’m protecting your brother from now on, so back to Asgard you go.”

Thor opened his mouth, wanting to ask to at least see his son, but he was met with the stony faces of each of the Avengers and some of Tony’s personal friends. “As you wish,” he acquiesced gracefully, determined to come back later and convince Loki to come back home with him and Ásfriðr. Marriage to a mortal be damned, no matter how hypocritical it made him sound. 

_XXX_

“What news have you, Thor?” The Allfather greeted him loudly as he entered the throne room. The elder God was seated on his throne, Gungnir in one hand and his wife’s in the other. Frigga was squeezing his fingers, painfully so, but the Allfather made no sign of discomfort, nor of impatience as Thor hesitated to speak. After length, the youngest glanced around at the guards and then at the doors waiting in silence until one by one they trailed from the room and left the royal family with privacy.

“SHIELD, the agency to which I offered my services during Loki’s attack on Midgard, has taken over my brother’s punishment. They feel that as mortals are not as long lived as our kind or the Jötuns, they should be the first race to punish him.” Frigga gasped, her free hand moving to cover her mouth. Thor tried to smile reassuringly at her, content in the knowledge that Loki had not been harmed under Stark’s care. Instead, he winced, because Odin looked rather furious at the news. “The child has been born, only moments ago in fact. A son- whom Stark has named Ásfriðr. Though I have not been introduced to him yet, I am told that he is healthy and strong and will be allowed to return to the Tower of Stark with Loki in a day or so.”

“They are well?” Frigga asked softly, her hand still over her mouth on the off chance she needed to stifle sobs. 

“They are well, by my knowledge, Mother.” Odin’s one eye was narrowed and his mouth was turned down and Thor sighed as he turned to face his father. “Do not be angry with Loki, Allfather. He had fulfilled his part of the contract. The child was born strong and well and will make a worthy heir for Asgard. He is free to leave now, regardless of his earlier disappearance, though,” Thor coughed as he added, “you did not stipulate that he had to _remain_ on Asgard once he had conceived my child, so Loki broke no rules.”

“He is well?” Odin asked, voice almost hoarse. He had to maintain the illusion in public that he was angry with Loki for fleeing Asgard before the birth of the child, despite Thor being correct in that he had not specifically said Loki must stay. But privately, having not seen many of the changes on Midgard himself (not since he last roamed the realm as a God and the mortals killed each other for sport) he was afraid for his younger son, afraid of what had been done to him under the pretence of care from the mortals who already held grievances against him for the invasion of New York. “The mortals have not done him harm?”

“The mortals were rather protective of him. They would not let me see him,” Thor admitted sadly, “since my meeting with Loki is what sent him into early labour. Apparently he did not wish to see me again. He was sleeping when I left.” Thor walked forward until he could clasp his parents’ joined hands in his own, and he squeezed them as he promised, “once the healers release him, I will bring Loki home with our son.”

Thor left a few moments later, seeking his friends to share the news of his son, but Frigga followed him, waited until he had finished speaking and then called for Thor to follow her back to the throne room. They went beyond the throne this time, to the private chambers on the other side where Odin met with some of his more important guests. It was completely noise proof, the most secure place in all of Asgard from spies because Loki had magiked it so. 

“You could do with taking some lessons from your brother,” Frigga chided jokingly as Thor closed the door behind them. Odin turned from where he was looking out of the window to face them at the sound of her voice. “You are a horrible liar my love.”

“I was not lying, mother!” 

“Oh,” she said softly, eyes going wide. “He did not tell you?”

Thor’s jaw clenched again, teeth grinding. “He told me lies. Somehow he has gotten all of Midgard to believe them, but that does not make it any more of a truth than if Loki alone were the one to speak it.”

“It is not a lie, darling.” Frigga took his face between his hands and pulled him down so that she could kiss his forehead. She turned to glance at Odin, to make sure he was listening to her as well. He was confused, she could tell, as was Thor, but she smiled at them both in turn, half sad at having to steal the idea of a son from Thor and half glad that the lie could finally end. “Loki was telling the truth. He was with child when he returned to Asgard, before your wedding. I did not say anything to either of you because I was afraid that since the mortal had let him leave Býleistr would have claim over him and the child instead. Your Anthony Stark is Loki’s One, Thor, and we took that away from him. Now it is time to return him, and _their_ son.” 

Odin was stunned to silence, but Thor’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I-” He stuttered, swallowing and starting again, “I must apologise. He… what if Anthony did not want him anymore because Loki and I-? Mother, I did not know.” It was a considered the worst offence to separate someone purposely from their One, something no one would wish upon their enemy (Asgardian enemies at least), and Thor was horrified at the thought that his marriage to Loki could have tainted the younger God in the eyes of his soulmate. 

“None of us knew, darling. I gave Loki the potion when he arrived, after the sentence was read out and the gag was removed from his mouth. Had I known, we could have explained to him, we should have explained regardless, but if we had known Anthony could have been given the first option, so you would not have had to volunteer. But they are wedded are they not?”

“They are.” Thor frowned again, “but he could have married only for the child?”

“Midgardians, I am led to believe, do not care so much for children born out of wedlock or within, it is all the same to them now. If they wedded, it was for love. I am sorry to have missed it!” She smiled widely, eyes bright with joy, as she turned to catch her husband’s shaking hands between her own. He stayed silent, obviously thinking it through still, so she turned back to Thor while keeping hold of Odin’s hands. “But you mustn’t tell anyone, darling. Do you understand? The lie that the child is yours is all that keeps Jötunheimr from demanding their justice, even some of the Asgardian courtiers will want to see him punished, and I will not let anyone hurt Loki again. Nor, I promise you, will your Man of Iron. Do you not agree?”

“He will burn the realms first,” Thor admitted with a snort of amusement, remembering the way the mortal had stood in his way in the hospital with no weapon and no suit while Mjölnir bayed for blood. 

“But Loki’s punishment…” Odin said at last, still not quite sure how he felt about all of this. 

“It has been enough, husband. Just be glad your son is happy at last and our other son is free to be happy.”

Thor grinned widely, adding, “And you have a grandson!” 

“That I do,” Odin replied softly, the furrow between his brow straightening out at last. 

_XXX_

Heimdallr watched them from his observatory. As the Allfather smiled, Heimdallr too smiled; the barest quirk at the edges of his lips. He would never be Loki’s biggest fan, but he had watched over the younger God during his months on Midgard and only a heartless cur would not have felt for him in some small way. That Loki and his mortal were getting their happy ending was a blessing, for Norns knew that the God of Mischief lived up to his name when unhappy, and was downright vicious when angered. 

He turned his eyes onto Jane Foster at the mention of her name, tuning out the Allfamily as they continued to speak amongst themselves, and he listened instead to the mortal woman who had captured Thor’s heart as she lamented his absence. Her companion, the loud, slightly annoying one who rolled her eyes a lot, shrieked as the television flashed to an image of Thor crashing into Avengers Tower the night before. Heimdallr turned his eyes away again as Jane pulled out her cell phone, dialling Tony Stark to ask after Thor who was no longer on Earth. 

As Tony answered the phone, Heimdallr looked to him. Tony was sitting at Loki’s bedside as the God cradled their son in his arms. The other Avengers stood in a semi-circle at the end of the bed, leaving the sides free for Pepper and Rhodey who were crowding over the couple to peek at the child’s sleeping face. The gift basket Pepper had ordered, and even attempted to help Happy carry inside, was halfway back to the car, Tony having wrangled the hospital staff into helping so Happy could stay in the room behind Pepper, smiling widely at his ex-boss over his new boss’ shoulder. 

“Look at that. Who’d have thought it?” Clint muttered to Natasha, nudging her with his elbow. Tony heard something about domesticating, and narrowed his eyes in response, sticking his tongue out; the picture of maturity, all grown up and ready to raise a child of his own. “And you!” Clint added, only half joking as he pointed a finger at Loki, “don’t think this means you get to escape your ‘punishment’. We all know the truth now, and you still have a debt to work off!”

Loki tilted his head to the left, cocked like a bird who was listening to far off prey. “Shall I begin, Barton,” Loki offered genially, “by turning you inside out so that I may save you and be rewarded for my heroism?”

The mortal took two steps back, hands raised even as he laughed. “Three months maternity leave sounds fair, I guess,” he chuckled as he spoke. 

Tony laughed too, and at the sound of his laugh Loki smiled, turning his face to press against his husband’s shoulder to feel it shake with each laugh. Ásfriðr snuffled softly in his sleep, and everyone’s attention went immediately back to the child, watching to see if he was about to wake so that they could fawn over him once more. 

Heimdallr watched and waited too. But as the child continued to sleep, the Watcher turned his gaze away from them too. 

**The End**

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment? Think of all the time I spent writing this… Go on? :)


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